#I was so excited to see her become a warrior though :(
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coyoteclan · 1 year ago
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holy shit your art is amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my heart broke when streakpaw died
Thank you!! My art is amazing because you guys are amazing!!!!! I'm not even joking this is the most I've drawn in so long and y'all have motivated me so much I'm almost considering trying to animate again..
ME. TOO. I gasped when I saw her death message. I have two clans with 200+ moons and neither of them have ever had a cat die in a training accident so I thought she was safe :( I had some very specific story lore for her too so I was absolutely SHOCKED
Clangen loved her so much that it didn't want her to go through my silly lore and took her away from me 😭 she was literally my favorite though... I had to get creative in redirecting the lore a bit so now things are gonna be a bit more complicated but hopefully y'all will still love it
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seresinhangmanjake · 26 days ago
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Hey! I saw you were accepting Feyd requests and I got so excited! Could you do something where Feyd and reader have been married for a little while, have been pretty stand-offish and just keeping up appearances. They get into a fight over something stupid, saying hurtful things because reader still believes Feyd is incapable of feelings. Turns out he’s really protective though and gets seriously injured saving her during an attack? Reader panics trying to help him and the feels super guilty, meanwhile Feyd is enjoying the attention.
Staining
Feyd-Rautha x reader
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Notes/Warnings: It's slightly different, but I hope you like it anyway. Mentions of blood and death. Smut so 18+. I'm sure there's typos. I think that's it.
Words: 4100
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list
“You’re heartless”—that’s what you spit at him after watching him rip apart another family right before your eyes. 
He slaughtered a man for a petty crime, and then you had to watch what would become of the wife and children. 
He gave them options, of course. He presents all of them with a choice: to be servants for his House or to fight for survival in the slums of Giedi Prime. For the mother, it likely means you’ll have a new handmaid. For the boys, they will be trained so they can one day face off in the arena. Either way, it's no life.
As he announced the options for their future, you couldn’t look away from her: the woman whose husband lay at her feet, the blood drained from his body as she attempted to shield her two young sons behind her small frame. You watched her kind eyes go permanently wide out of shock. She needed to answer your husband’s question, give a response to his merciful offer, but she couldn’t. Nothing on her moved save for the grip she had on her boys, which only tightened the longer she stared at her dead lover. 
You knew what would happen to them. Your husband found her silence and inability to snap out of her trace irritating. She would make a poor handmaid if she could not listen. The boys, however, could still make fine warriors—guaranteed entertainment a few years down the line. 
So he separated them. Allowed the guards to pry them away from their mother’s fingers—who left her state of shock behind only when she felt them being ripped from her hands—before dragging them to cells with tears streaming down their round cheeks. 
Their mother collapsed to the floor by her dead husband. His blood soaked her skirts. You didn’t know how a man could do this to his own people for something as simple as the theft of some food, but he does, and often. Then he had her thrown out, back to the slums where she came from. 
She’ll never see her boys again. If you know your husband, he will likely one day force the two to face off with each other in the arena. After all, that’s where his uncle finds entertainment, and your husband will do anything to please the old man. 
Long after his guards have departed with the woman, you��re still staring at the body on the floor. The red around him is congealing. If you run your finger through it, the digit will return sticky and thickly coated. He’ll stain your skin. He’ll stain through your skin onto your insides. He’ll never come off. 
He’s like your husband, you think. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stained you, and impressively, he didn’t even have to touch you to achieve that. Simply being in his presence was enough to leave his mark, and you’re in his presence plenty, just not how you imagined you would be when you married him. You imagined being in his bed. You imagined kisses and loving caresses and sweet words—that kind of staining. But you were a naive girl when your parents dropped you off on this planet, and you quickly learned how to be a woman; a woman whose husband only uses her for formality’s sake. 
You don’t know why you have to be by his side for this, though, but he always ensures that you are. The two of you…a solidified front to the world, as if you agree with the choices he makes and the punishment he doles out to those who don’t deserve it.
So that’s why you say it. Because you’re tired of this, tired of being silent, hating the idea that your silence might lead him to think the two of you are on the same page; that you’re a team. 
“You’re heartless.”
His head whips to you. “Heartless…” His voice around the word is vile; thick and rich like the blood on the floor. With a few steps in your direction he is in your space and you clasp your hands in front of you, fingers squeezing tightly to keep yourself from running off. He stares down at you, a luminous blue that you found so stunningly gorgeous when you first met him now a pair of frozen icicles stabbing into your skull. “I’m heartless?”
Your swallow is rough. Dry and scratchy. 
“I’m not the one who steals from his neighbors. I’m not the one who risks leaving his wife alone for the rest of her life,” he says. “They know the laws. They know the consequences.”
“And the woman? She deserves to be alone, rotting away in poor living conditions because of his choice? Her children deserve to die for your entertainment?”
“You take issue with how I handle things?”
“Yes.”
Feyd’s back teeth clench. His jaw sets in a sharp line. “Another reason for you to hate me then,” he grits out.
You blink. Your lips part. Another reason? You don’t have multiple reasons, and there’s certainly nothing you’ve done to indicate that you do. You used to hate that he didn’t, and doesn’t, care about you, but you’ve never said a word about it. You’ve never bothered him about sleeping in separate rooms or asked him to give you anything of himself. This—his treatment of his people in situations like this one—isn’t another reason. It’s the reason. 
“You could deal with these matters differently,” you say.
His fingers form balls at his sides. His mouth opens. It closes. He shakes his head and walks past you but pauses before he is completely out of your peripherals. “This is how things are done here,” he says. “You’ve been my wife for five months now. You need to get used to it.”
You don’t get used to it. You don’t get used to it because he doesn’t demand you be by his side at his executions anymore. Not after that day. 
You’d never spoken up before that moment, and it cost you what little interaction you had with your husband, which you despise to say was precious. You may not love him, and at times hate him, but he is the only thing you have on this planet. Little as you spoke to one another before, you held onto it because no one else gives a damn about you. Not that he does either, but at least he would give you a word or two. His brother and the Baron don’t bother, leaving you to Feyd to decide what to do with and when to do it. 
However, you imagine they didn’t expect that he would never touch you, and based on the way they watch you and Feyd when you’re forced to join the Harkonnen’s for dinner, you imagine they’re now aware that whatever was between you—minute as it was—is gone. He doesn’t even call on you for formal events. He no longer cares about showing a unified front to the other Great Houses. But you do.
You know what reputation means to the Harkonnens, and regardless of how you feel about the history of Feyd’s choices, you’re not willing to present your life on Giedi Prime as a failure. The two of you are too young for whispers to spread among influential families of a tainted marriage, a crack in the system. You don’t need questions floating about in regards to a unification that will not result in an heir. The end of the Harkonnen line, they’ll say, as Rabban, much older than your husband, has yet to choose a wife. How unfortunate, they’ll slyly mutter around the rims of their champagne glasses. And you’re not ready for that. 
So, with the exception of executions, you attend the events your husband does not invite you to anymore. You make sure your face is seen, especially when most vital. At his meetings, at his fights in the arena, and at Harkonnen parties such as this one. 
People enjoy themselves here. Shockingly, a few strong drinks eases the tension between Houses, and Giedi Prime has the strongest drinks of them all. It’s a tactic. A genius one, if you’re honest. The Baron invites his guests and gets them in a good mood and strikes deals one cannot go back on. Brilliant. Something you might have thought of yourself if your husband let you share your thoughts; thoughts you have plenty of. But no one cares how you would rule this planet if you had a say in its future.
You watch the Houses mingle about. You watch them laugh and dance. You watch them watch your husband. You watch them watch you. You watch the wheels turn in their alcohol-addled brains. You roll your eyes at what he doesn’t see. 
Ungluing yourself from your designated spot, you step up the staircase that leads to the Harkonnen men, your husband and his brother flanking the throne the Baron sits upon. You don’t think to speak to any of them; you didn’t break away from your assigned location for words. Instead, for all to see, you reach up to cup Feyd’s cheek and turn his head toward you for the first kiss since the day of your wedding. A gentle brush of lips. A buzz more engulfing than any drink could offer.
He freezes, and when you pull back his lips are still parted. His eyes open slowly and he stares down at you in awed confusion. How he doesn’t understand why you’ve done what you’ve done is just short of bewildering, but it doesn’t seem to click. 
“You–”
“I’m going to retire for the night,” you tell him. You’ve been at this party long enough, and the guests have now seen what they needed to see. Not to mention, their tipsy state means they’ll soon forget any thoughts they have about you until morning. They’ll stop searching for your presence. 
You don’t wait for your husband’s nod of approval. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t care where you are at any given time anyway, so you descend the staircase and exit the grand room into the hall that leads to your bedroom.
The echo of footsteps follows and you’re bold enough to believe it could be Feyd before a blade is pressed against your throat from behind. For a moment, you think it still might be your husband—retaliation for the kiss that re-sparked a feeling you’ve been trying to ignore since you married him—but the voice in your ear is feminine. 
“He killed my husband, my Lady,” the voice says, and you instantly remember her. It’s been two months but nothing could make you forget the look in her eyes. “I want my sons.”
You swallow hard. The blade nicks your throat from the additional force. A droplet trickles down your neck. “I can’t return your sons to you,” you tell her, at the same time questioning how she infiltrated such a secure place. But you suppose with the number of guests, slipping in would not have been the most difficult of challenges. 
You wince at the deepening cut. Your heartbeat quickens, doing little to aid in stopping the blood seeping from your wound. “You’re the na-Baronness.”
“I have little power here.”
“I don’t care!” she shouts, her words bouncing off the walls. “I want my boys,” and you think now she’s crying. Her tone alters. Something catches in her throat. “What’s happened to them?”
You don't wish to tell her, but you’re in no position to deny her requests. “They’re alive and well,” you say, which isn’t a complete lie. The Baron prefers strong, well-fed fighters—the duels last longer that way. 
“I want them back!”
“As much as I would like to, I cannot give them back to you. It’s not my decision.”
“Then I’ll take you from him,” she spits. “The way he took mine.”
You must’ve put on a grander show than you expected with that kiss because she seems to fully believe that your death would matter to him. But you know he won’t blink an eye. He might even thank her. Reward her by reuniting her with her sons, though unlikely. 
“He won’t care,” you tell her. 
“I have seen him, my Lady. He will care,” she says, and you don’t know how she could possibly come to that conclusion or why. It’s not as if the people of Giedi Prime sense a kind capability from the Harkonnens. “He will–”
She chokes. The blade trembles then drops from your neck. You quickly glance down to find Feyd’s knife deep in her side. 
Many things are a mystery to you in that moment. Why he bothered to leave the party; why he came down this hall of all halls, especially when his room resides in another; and why he pierced her side rather than go for the neck, which would have instantly ended her. His mistake. An uncharacteristic mistake.
The woman whips around, freeing you, and you stumble out of reach. They’re a blur of battling bodies as you get your footing, but then it catches up with you—the pain. Your hand goes to your neck and you make a little noise at the sting of your fresh wound. Your mistake. 
Feyd looks away from her in search of you for a single second. Not even. A half-second. But the woman is smaller, quicker, and the distraction is enough. Her blade slides into his abdomen. He grunts. You gasp.
He regains his focus and, by her hair, he rips her head back to expose her throat and shoves the blade through her neck. Blood spurts across his chest as he removes the weapon, and she collapses to her knees before the rest of her body flops to the floor. 
Feyd takes a shaky step back, staring down at the blade in his torso. He drops his knife and his hand goes to the hilt of the other. 
“No, don’t!” you yell, but you’re too late. He jerks the blade out and it clatters on the ground. His palm does nothing to stop the flow of crimson. 
Rushing to him, you fall to the floor as he does. You press your hands on top of his to keep the pressure but it’s useless. “Don’t you know anything?” you mutter. “You should’ve kept the damn thing in.”
He chuckles. The bastard actually chuckles. Then his other hand raises and lands on top of yours. You think he’s trying to add more pressure, but his touch is gentle. His thumb runs over your knuckles. 
“It’s alright,” he says, and you’ve never heard his voice so devoid of depth and strength.
“No, it’s not,” you retort, irritated. 
“You still hate me?”
“Shut up!” you snap. “Help!” Yanking the black chiffon sleeve off your gown, it tears free and you ball the material to shove it against his wound. “Help!” 
Guards burst through the doors and run to you. You sigh with relief, but when you look down, your husband is paler than you’ve ever seen him. 
“Feyd…” 
You’re shoved out of the way in a second, flung to the side like a flicked-away ant, and then he’s taken from you. You watch them until he’s out of view. When you glance down at your hands, they’re stained with him. 
They bandaged your neck in mere minutes and you find it aggrivating that they couldn’t work as efficiently on him. You’ve been dead silent for hours now, expecting to hear screams of pain as they stitch him back together, but then you remember he’s a glutton for pain. He’s probably enjoying it, the sick bastard. But you’re not enjoying it—the waiting, the limbo. It’s torturous. 
You’ve never seen him hurt before. You’ve witnessed his skills in the arena, and not once in your seven months of marriage has someone gotten a decent slash on him. 
Guilt hits you hard as you recall that it’s your fault. That woman was skilled as well—you suppose she would be if she was raised to live where she did—but if you hadn’t made that noise, if you hadn’t distracted him, she would’ve been dead before she could do her damage. This wouldn’t have happened. 
Just then, a knock comes at your door. You speak for them to enter and a guard peeks into your room. “My Lady…” he says, and you pray you’re not about to be told your husband didn’t survive a single stab wound. “You can come with me.”
You don’t wait around for more. You hop to your feet and quickly follow through hall after hall until you’re at his room. 
“What will I see when I walk in there?” you ask. 
“He’s fine, my Lady,” he says, bowing his head to dismiss himself before returning to his post. 
Turning the knob, you edge the door open and step inside. The bed is in immediate view, but he’s not in it. He’s not in it and he should be. Not even the covers are pulled back. Maybe the guard misled you. If he were fine, surely he would be resting. 
You make your way in further. 
“You’re here.” 
Your head snaps to your right where he’s leaning against the lone table in his room, a lit orb on the wooden surface illuminating him from behind in a white glow. He’s less pale than he was; what little rosiness he once had returned to his skin. 
Clearing your throat, you say, “I was told to come.”
“Because I told them to bring you,” he says. 
Your heart pounds at the bareness of his torso, the thickness of his arms as they cross in front of his chest. It pounds in a different way, an off-kilter way, when you notice the dressings wrapped around his waist and the patch of blood that is seeping through three layers of it. 
He must see your distraction because he says, “It’s fine.” Your eyes flick back to his. A beat of silence passes between you. You’re unsure how to continue now that he’s seen the concern you have for him. “I suppose you’re disappointed.”
“Disappointed?” you repeat. “What for?”
“I’m alive.”
Your jaw drops ever so slightly. You recover as best you can before you say, “Feyd, I don’t want you to—I’ve never wanted you to–”
He holds up his hand, cutting you off. “I’m going to listen to you.”
Your brow pinches. Why did he silence you, then? “Listen to me about what?”
He takes a deep breath, an action that lifts his shoulders and has them falling heavily back down. His eyes penetrate you as they’ve always done, but the iciness is gone. “I don’t care if the people I hurt want to kill me,” he starts. “But she didn’t come to kill me; she came to hurt me by killing you. So I will listen to your thoughts when it comes to dealing with matters like that one.” He pauses, expecting a response, but you don’t quite know what to give him, so he continues. “Your voice will make fewer enemies.”
“You care about making enemies?” Since when would a Harkonnen ever care about such a thing? Especially when they are known for doing that thing so well.
“I care when they come after my wife,” he says. Pushing off the table, he leisurely steps toward you. You’re stuck to your spot. “The men of my House do not have a history of caring about their wives. They’ve never cared if their actions bring them harm, and yet, people have used our wives as pawns for revenge for centuries. Many have died to prove a point. I’m not going to let you be one of them.”
He stops only to not collide with your body. You have to look up to maintain eye contact, and when you do, his breath brushes over your lips. “Why didn’t you kill her when you could have? You stabbed her in the side. You avoided vital organs.”
“Because you wouldn’t have wanted me to kill her if I didn’t have to,” he says. “So I didn’t kill her…until I had to.”
You suck in a sharp breath. You didn’t know he was capable of such restraint. You didn’t know he had enough fragments of a heart to glue together to keep him from doing exactly as he pleases. 
His hand lands on your hip and his thumb begins to rub up and down over the curve of it. He hasn’t touched you…ever. In fact, he’s seemed over the months to deliberately avoid it. Like your skin would burn him even through the fabric of your gowns. Anytime it looked like he would try, he’d pull back before flesh grazed flesh. 
“You hadn’t kissed me since we married,” he says, so gentle in that low voice that it’s practically a whisper. It doesn’t make the heat of his breath any less intense against your skin. 
“People were watching too intensely,” you inform him. “They were thinking something was wrong between us, I could tell, and I didn’t want to give them that power over you.”
“So that was it, then?” he asks. “That’s the only reason you did it?”
“That’s–” you swallow, debating whether or not to say it, to give him more. 
“What?”
“That’s the reason I did it,” you decide to tell him, and his face shifts; his features alter in a manner you’ve never seen. He looks down to his feet. He nods and his touch disappears, and now you feel cold and you hate it. “But that’s not the only reason I wanted to do it.”
He freezes as he did before. For a moment, his chest stops rising and falling with expected breaths. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, he raises his head. 
You can’t stop staring, even though your brain is telling you to get ahold of yourself. His mouth is so plush. You’ve always known it. It’s always done something to you. And whatever that something is, it’s more potent now that he’s so close and you can see his lips glistening in the low light. 
“Will you do it again?” he asks.
Again? You didn’t imagine he wanted you to do it the first time, or the second. The first was an obligation. The second was not exactly mutually agreed upon. But as he stands in front of you, asking, you can’t bring yourself to say no. You don’t want to say no. So you say yes, and you inch up on your toes until your lips meet his. 
Immediately, he’s yanking your body flush against his. His hand goes into your hair, and he parts his lips so they can better lock with yours. He’s good at this, and you don’t want to think about why, can’t think about why without a knot of jealousy settling in your gut that only dissipates when those hands travel down your body to the back of your thighs. You’re in the air, your legs wrapped around his waist, your lips still sealed for one second more before your back hits the mattress and he’s on top of you with his leg shoving between yours, nudging your thighs open for him. 
You don’t know the exact moment it happens, but your skirts are up to your waist and he’s inside of you, moving in and out, kissing your neck and pulling gasps from your throat, and it feels right, good, like pieces falling together. A bit of you feels guilty for that. That you can know what he’s done to people and still want to feel the pleasure of every inch that he’s giving you. You’re selfish, maybe that’s it. Maybe you’ve always been and you didn’t know it. You can’t bring yourself to care as he makes those deep noises in your ear and stains your insides.
After you’re sated, you lay there for a while with him in your arms and his arms wrapped around your waist. His head rests on your chest. You think about the things you’ve done to each other in the course of an hour and it brings a blush to your cheeks. You think about how you can’t go back and that you don’t want to. You’ve wanted this from the beginning, despite what he’s done. You expected it when you married him only to be sorely disappointed at his lack, or what appeared as a lack, of interest. You’re definitely selfish, at least when it comes to him. But you refuse to be when it comes to other matters.
“I want something from you,” you say. He hums, content. “I want us to take in that woman's boys.”
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prythianpages · 8 months ago
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Sprinkles | Azriel x Witch Reader
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summary: you and your daughter return back from visiting your family in the Middle with an unexpected surprise.
warnings: fluff; mentions of a scorpion (yes, there's a spider in the pic above but I could not stomach using a scorpion picture since I find them so creepy lol)
a/n: This is a little imagine for my Dandelions series since I miss Az & witch reader. If you'd like to read as a stand alone imagine, all you have to know is that reader is a witch and is an established relationship with Az and they have a daughter.
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You’re still not back.
Azriel knows he shouldn’t worry. When he had asked Rhysand to reach out to you, you had let him know that you and your daughter would not make it in time for dinner but that all was well. Knowing that, that wouldn’t be enough for him, you had also flooded him with reassurance and love through the bond. Visiting your family has become more frequent since Melaina’s birth. 
Azriel had chosen to stay behind this time.
The memory of the last visit lingered—your mother pestering him for a lock of his hair, her intentions veiled behind a wicked gleam in her eye. You hadn't voiced her reasons, but the instant glare you shot her with conveyed enough. Despite over a decade together, tension still simmered between Azriel and your mother. Her overbearing and overprotective nature remained unchanged, and Azriel couldn't bring himself to blame her.
Regret begins to crawl in, his shadows slithering along his limbs, as he realizes that perhaps, he should’ve accompanied you both. He glances at Rhysand lounging on the couch opposite, contemplating asking him to check on you once more. Rhysand's lips quirk up, meeting Azriel's gaze. Even Feyre shoots him an amused glance.
But before Azriel can even ask them to check up on you, there’s a round of three familiar knocks echoing through the river house. He’s rising to his feet in a heartbeat, feeling the warmth of your nearby presence pouring through the bond. When he opens the door, he’s greeted by the green glow of your magic as both you and your daughter appear in front of him, standing hand in hand.
His shadows reach out, tentatively brushing against your skin, as if searching for injuries, even though they expect none. It’s just a habit now. Meanwhile, the ones that darted toward Melaina dance around her own shadows, the tendrils greeting each other with familiarity, akin to old friends.
“Please, don’t be mad,” you say to him and the smile doesn’t falter on his face. Not when you wrap your arms around his neck and soften the oncoming blow with a kiss. He could never be mad at you, he thinks, as he’s blissfully overwhelmed by you.
“I could never,” he voices in a murmur as he pulls away. To which you only respond with a smile that radiates pure mischief. Your hand finds his and he lets you guide him back toward the sitting room, where Melaina had quietly headed to.
“Whatcha got there, Azriel jr?” Cassian asks with a grin, curious to see what your daughter is holding so dear to her chest.
"Uncle Cas, I got a pet!" Melaina chirps, a bounce in her step as she approaches Cassian, her wings fluttering behind her. Azriel feels a sweet ache in his chest, mirrored by your gentle squeeze of his hand.
"Oh! Let me see!" Cassian's twins and Nyx rush toward her in excitement, eager to catch a glimpse of her new pet. Azriel casts a side glance toward you, noticing the way you bite your lip. 
Suddenly, a shriek pierces the air, drawing Azriel's attention sharply toward his daughter and Cassian. “Mother’s tits, what the fuck is that thing?”  Cassian exclaims, eyes widening in horror while Rhysand throws his head back in laughter.
“Language!” You hiss at Cassian with a glare.
Azriel blinks in surprise, torn between amusement and concern at the sight of one of the strongest Illyrian warriors cowering behind his sons and the giant scorpion cradled like a baby in his daughter’s arms. It’s as big as a small pup, for Cauldron’s sake.
“You got our daughter a pet scorpion?” He asks, turning back to you.
“I couldn’t bring myself to say no to her,” you reply sheepishly, looking up at him through your lashes with that soft look in your eyes that has him melting. He senses Melaina must’ve given you that same look earlier.  “My mother placed an enlargement spell over the scorpion so we wouldn’t lose sight of it.”
"Lovely," Azriel says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but a grin tugs at his lips. He looks back at Melaina, who is beaming as she sets her "pet" down, eliciting another cry from Cassian and laughter from the others. Oh, he’s going to enjoy every second of this.
Nesta rolls her eyes, rising from her seat to kneel down and run a curious finger down the scorpion's back. Her sons join her, seemingly braver than their father. Feyre giggles and Rhysand shakes his head with an amused gleam in his eyes. Yet, he sinks further into the cushions of the couch, wanting to keep a safe distance from the scorpion. Mor tucks her legs beneath her, sharing the sentiment, and taking a large swig of her wine. Amren remains unfazed.
Nyx turns to his parents, blue eyes bright. “Can I have a pet too?” he asks in a pleading tone and Azriel swears the blood drains from Rhysand’s face, violet eyes flickering between his son and the scorpion. Feyre’s giggles come to an abrupt halt.
“Yes but maybe something cu—“ Feyre stops herself at the pointed look you send. “Something smaller,” she says instead with a sheepish smile and there’s a subtle sigh of relief escaping from Rhysand’s lips.
“Me too!”
“Me too!”
Cassian’s twins, Cardan and Calian, say in unison, looking toward their father with pouts on their lips. “Ask your mother.”
Nesta’s eyes burn into him. “Of course you can,” she replies and the boys squeal in delight. Her lips curve into a wicked smirk as she rises to her feet and makes her way back to her mate. “Perhaps, y/n can take us to the same shop she got Mel’s at.”
“Oh, yes! There was just the cutest snake, longing for a good home.” You grin as Cassian shakes his head no. “The color of it’s shimmering scales matches the exact shade of Cas’s siphons. I think it’s meant to be!"
“Perfect!"
“Does your pet have a name, girl?” Amren asks your daughter.
“His name is Sprinkles!” Melaina chirps, clasping her hands together when the scorpion’s claws pinch at nothing. Her shadows echo her joy, pulsing as they snake down her legs and wrap around Sprinkle’s pointed tail.  “Isn’t he just adorable?”
“Absolutely!” You are quick to reply, despite Cassian’s protests in the background. 
You beam down at your daughter the way same Melaina beams down at Sprinkle. Azriel just knows you genuinely mean it. The depth of your admiration for all life is one he enjoys watching but even more so, when all life admires you back. It’s as if every creature, every living being can sense your light. Sprinkles seems drawn to it too, slowly crawling over to you and brushing its stinger against your leg in what appears to be an affectionate gesture. Your grin widens. 
For a moment, Azriel wonders how your spider and the scorpion will get along, but as his daughter’s giggle reaches his ear, he pushes the thought aside. He'll deal with that later. For now, he simply basks in the joy of his mate and daughter with a fond smile on his own face.
Because as long as his girls are happy, he’s happy... even if his own skin crawls at the sight of your daughter’s new pet.
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a/n: I picture Mel as a softer version of Wednesday Addams 🖤 So I couldn't help myself with this one. Hope you all enjoyed it!
I still want to write an imagine for when reader and Az find out they're expecting Mel but am waiting for the inspo to hit me for that one so if you have any suggestions, I'm all for them 👀 I also have this thought of Mel developing a crush on Eris's son when she's older, which totally makes Az freak out lol.
tagging: @fxckmiup, @aria-chikage
if you asked to be tagged in this series and I didn't tag you, please let me know! I've lost track of some tag requests 😅
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makoodles · 2 years ago
Text
ミ tìtunu
part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part four (nsfw
🍓pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader
🍓word count: 9k words (oops)
🍓warnings: alien courting rituals, misunderstandings, accidental sexy touching
yoooo i was not expecting people to like this ahhahahaha but thank you all so much for all your lovely excited comments! they've been so fun to read and honestly pushed me into writing this faster! pls forgive me if i forgot to tag you (i tried to include everyone that asked) 🍓 masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
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Tsu’tey is beginning to wonder if he had received some irreparable damage to his head in the fall from the sky that had nearly killed him all those months ago. It’s the only explanation for what’s gone so terribly wrong with him.
After his failed first attempt at courting, you don’t come back to the village for a few days. It’s probably a good thing, Tsu’tey tries to convince himself; he needs to decide what it is he truly wants, and how far he’s willing to go to get it. But even though he tries to use the time to himself productively, he finds himself on edge and impatient.
His foul mood is clear to the whole village to see, and so it’s only a matter of time before someone confronts him about it. 
It’s just his luck that the person who approaches him about it is Jakesully.
“So,” The new Olo’eyktan drawls as he sidles up to where Tsu’tey is watching a group of young warriors training with their longbows, “Word has it that you’ve chosen a mate.”
They may be brothers in arms and tentative friends, but that doesn’t mean that Tsu’tey is pleased to have him poking around his business. His ears flatten back in a wordless warning to back off, but Jakesully pays no heed to it.
The bastard is grinning, as though this is the most entertained he’s been in weeks. “Word has it that your chosen mate is human.”
“Do not speak on matters you do not understand.” Tsu’tey bares his teeth in a move that is bold at best, considering he is speaking to his clan chief.
But Jakesully just laughs, his stupid shoulders straightening. He has become so confident since becoming one of the people, and Tsu’tey envies him for it. He was sure of himself just like Jakesully once, but now it seems like all he does is doubt himself.
“Relax, brother.” Jakesully says casually, leaning on one leg as he follows Tsu’tey’s gaze out towards the young warriors. “You are too tense. How could she want someone so grumpy?”
Tsu’tey turns to him then, his tail coiled in a tense loop as he glares. “She is a demon.”
Jakesully just rolls his eyes. It's a gesture so human that it’s almost jarring. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he is alien, just like you.
“Everyone sees the way you look at her.” Jakesully says, raising a brow at him. “It’s a different kind of scowl than you give everyone else.”
Tsu’tey doesn’t think that he scowls that much. He tries to force the frown off his face as he turns to look at Jakesully head on.
“It does not matter what you think you see,” He bites out, frustrated and on-edge with embarrassment. “She is tawtute. Sky demon. She does not see, cannot connect with the People or with Eywa.”
Jakesully is nodding, but he still has that infuriating smirk curling around his mouth that suggests he understands Tsu’tey’s feelings better than Tsu’tey himself does.
“That hasn’t stopped you so far, has it?” He points out with a faux-innocent tone that is utterly unconvincing. “I mean, you certainly seem happier to show her around and explain things to her than you ever were with me.”
“That is because she listens, Jakesully.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jakesully waves this away as if it’s inconsequential, before his expression shifts. 
The next look he levels at Tsu’tey is uncomfortably sober. 
“Look. I know that you’ve been having a hard time since...” He trails off, and his eyes dart down towards the harsh, ugly scars that cover Tsu’tey’s torso from where the brutal human weapons called bullets had nearly torn him apart. “Look, who cares what anyone else thinks? The People are still wary of the humans left over, but they’re looking to you as an example on how they should act. You could set a precedent here.”
Tsu’tey clenches his jaw as he stares out at the warriors. Instead of answering, he shouts out to one of the younglings near the edge of their makeshift firing range. “Netu’li, keep your elbows up.”
Netu’li fixes his posture, and the next arrow he looses hits home in a perfect bullseye. Tsu’tey nods in satisfaction.
Jakesully is still staring at the side of his face, and Tsu’tey realises that there is no way for him to escape this conversation. He takes a breath, and tries to ignore the resentful embarrassment coiling in his belly.
“She did not accept my advances.” He mutters, his ears flattened against his skull.
Irritatingly, Jakesully doesn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest. 
“Oh yeah?” He drawls. “Hm. Well, I never thought you’d give up so easily. I’m surprised.”
Tsu’tey flicks a quick glance his way. What a ridiculous, painfully transparent attempt at goading him into admitting the interest he’s been trying to deny. The worst part is that it might actually be working.
“I did not say I was giving up.” Tsu’tey says sharply, well aware that he’s playing right into Jakesully’s hands right now. “I am just… I am thinking.”
Jakesully raises his stupid eyebrows, but Tsu’tey is studiously avoiding looking at him now. This whole situation was mortifying enough when it was all going unsaid; now that it’s being discussed, Tsu’tey feels like climbing inside of a yomioang plant and never coming out. 
“Well,” Jakesully sounds smug, which should be a warning in itself, “You’d better do some thinking quickly, because I believe that’s her coming now.”
Tsu’tey straightens quickly, and tosses a look over his shoulder. Sure enough, your familiar figure is standing awkwardly by the treeline. It seems as though you’re reluctant to step further into the village; you’re fidgeting with your fingers, eyes darting around until they finally find him.
Something in his lower belly leaps, and he finds himself taking a sharp inhale through his nose at the sight of you. It’s been days since he’s last seen you, and he had been beginning to wonder if you would ever seek him out again. The sight of you here is a ridiculous sort of relief, one that he doesn’t even want to fully think about. Even better is the fact that you look alright, you look healthy. It doesn’t seem as though he’s done lasting damage to you with the meat.
You smile at him, and even from across the village he feels his heart thump against his ribcage. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.
Aware of your eyes on him, Tsu’tey hefts his longbow from his back and shoots an arrow. It flies straight through the target, and hits it with a heavy, satisfying thump.
Jakesully just laughs. “Wow. Impressive.”
“Be silent.” Tsu’tey grumbles, his tail coiled tightly around his leg. He is anxious in a way that is entirely unbefitting of a warrior, and he resents you for being the cause of it. “I do not wish to speak to her.”
“Oh, come on!” Jakesully tilts his head back, shaking his head as though Tsu’tey is nothing but a child. “I thought we just talked through this!”
Tsu’tey ignores him. He can feel your gaze on his back like a weight, and though he stands straight and tall he cannot bring himself to turn around and meet your eyes. It’s all too much – even from across the camp your presence needles at him, and he hasn’t even decided on what he’s going to do just yet.
Jakesully’s eyes on the side of Tsu’tey’s face don’t help very much either. “Where’s all your confidence from the other night gone, when you practically declared what you wanted in front of the whole clan?”
Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly. That had been a moment of pure madness. “It was rash of me.”
Jakesully just makes a face. “Whatever. Look, if the People could accept a skxawng like me as Olo’eyktan, why wouldn’t they accept your interest in a human mate? They respect you; they’ll respect your choices.”
It’s a reasonable point, but Tsu’tey remains stubbornly silent. It rankles, the way that Jakesully is trying to insert himself into his business. Tsu’tey’s thoughts and feelings about you are confused and conflicted, but they’re private. The way Jakesully speaks about you as though he knows you makes Tsu’tey’s skin prickle.
“I must think on it.” Tsu’tey says at last. It’s a weak response, but he just wants to buy himself some time.
Perhaps Jakesully is right. Tsu’tey has always been strong-willed and stubborn, and has always known exactly what he wanted. Now though, he's floundering. Now he doesn’t know what he wants, and he’s casting about desperately in the hopes that someone will advise him on what to do. After having his life and expectations so soundly upended, he just wants to make his clan proud. He wants their approval, but Jakesully is right – when has he ever given up on anything just because it posed a challenge?
“Fine.” Jakesully says, jarring Tsu’tey from his thoughts. He had nearly forgotten the Olo’eyktan was still there, and it’s unnerving to realise that he’s being watched with a smug sort of smirk. “I’ll keep her company for today, then. Considering you need your space.”
Tsu’tey’s jaw clenches hard but he does not protest. He can’t, not after making such a big deal out of not wishing to speak to you today. His pride is hurt, and all he can do is double-down on his position. Besides, Jakesully is mated to Neytiri, and Tsu’tey knows that he would rather die than stray from her.
That doesn’t stop him from turning his head as Jakesully leaves his side, watching with sharp eyes as the Olo’eyktan approaches you. Even from this distance, he can see the little smile on your face through your mask as you tilt your head up towards him. The sight of it causes something to curdle in his low belly. 
That should be him on the receiving end of your sweet little smile. It’s a selfish thought, but one that he can’t quite shake off. The sense of possessiveness surprises even him, and he watches with narrowed eyes as Jakesully leans down to say something to you.
When Jakesully’s stupid five-fingered hand touches upon your shoulder to lead you away to somewhere else within the camp, Tsu’tey feels his tail whip around his ankles in aggravation. 
I will try again, He thinks wildly as he turns back around to stare unseeingly at the practicing warriors in front of him. And this time I will not fail to impress.
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Now that Tsu’tey has reached the decision to court you (officially), there is much to be prepared. He has never been one to take half-measures, and initiating a courtship is certainly no exception. You may not be Na’vi, but he will court you with all the respect and courtesy as he would if you were one of the People. 
Part of him wonders if his decision is written across his face somehow, because the People of the village seem to know. When he begins searching for materials to make an official courting gift for you, he begins getting help from unexpected places. 
Some of the children have started leaving pieces of twine and plant fibre in his treehut, and he is pleased to find that it is of good enough quality to begin weaving immediately. The old woman, A’nayla, who is the best at carving beads in the whole village, slaps his hands away impatiently when he attempts to pick out a number of beads for your gift. She directs him instead to some of her shiniest and most vibrant beads, and refuses to make any trades. A gift, she had insisted, her old face crinkling in a knowing smile as she had waved him away.
He feels supported, even more so when Neytiri visits him in his treehut one evening after dinner. It has been a few days since you visited the encampment, but Tsu’tey is determined to have everything in good order before he approaches you in earnest. 
When Neytiri enters the small hut he had built in the trees when they first settled in this encampment, she takes a moment to peer around with a neutral expression.
Tsu’tey has been sitting on the woven mat in the middle of the room, but he looks up and waits for his old friend to speak.
“My Jake has told me about your intentions with the tawtute.” She says after a long moment, stepping forward and sinking down to sit in front of him with her legs crossed. “Many people speak of it in the village.”
Tsu’tey’s ear twitches at that, embarrassed, but he just focuses back on his weaving. There’s no point denying it; he does not plan on hiding it for much longer, anyway.
“Yes.” He says simply. “My first attempt was… not successful.”
Neytiri hums. He thinks he can hear an undercurrent of amusement. “Yes. I saw.”
His ears flatten in earnest at that. He had hoped that no one had witnessed that particular humiliation, but that’s no matter. People will soon forget, and he will soon have you distracted with his second (and surely more successful) attempt. 
Her eyes fall on the half-finished woven piece in his hands, and she eyes it carefully. “That is too big. She is small, remember.”
“Of course I remember.” He snaps, before raising the half-finished jewelry to his face and squinting at it. “You think it will not fit?”
“Give me.” Neytiri demands, and stretches out her hand. 
Tsu’tey passes it without complaint. They have known each other since birth, certainly long enough to forgo any passing formalities and niceties. He trusts Neytiri with his life, his best-friend and once-potential-mate, and he finds himself waiting with his tail curled protectively beside him as he awaits her judgment; not only on his half-finished gift, but also on his choice of a mate.
“This decision I have made,” He says suddenly. “To court the sky demon. It is madness, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Neytiri speaks with hardly a hesitation, though she doesn’t raise her eyes from his weaving. She starts picking out a loop where he had made a mistake, and begins reweaving it with deft fingers. “But I will not be the one to judge you for that.”
“And Mo’at?”
“She thinks you are a skxawng.” Neytiri says easily, “But she loves you like a son.” The next look she darts at him is quick and sharp out of the corner of her eye. “Out of everyone in the village, your heart was the most firmly closed against the Sky People. Does that not make it all the more meaningful, that you have chosen a sky person as your mate?”
Tsu’tey is silent. He used to think that he knew exactly how his life was going to work out; he would be Olo’eyktan, he would mate with his first love Sylwanin, they would be happy and prosperous and strong together. But that future evaporated like mist before his eyes; not all at once, but gradually, until he could barely see the vapours. His reality is very different now; he clings almost desperately to the idea of you. There have been many people that Tsu’tey has not been strong enough to protect, but you are so small and soft – you need protecting more than anyone he’s ever known, and he’s determined not to let you down.
“She will accept,” Tsu’tey murmurs, before casting an uncertain glance in Neytiri’s direction. “Do you think so?”
“I see her look at you.” Neytiri murmurs back, her mouth curving. “She will accept.”
That brings a rush of relief so sudden and unexpected that Tsu’tey feels it like a physical blow. He keeps his head bowed in the hopes that it will not be so obvious, and hums absently as though he’s only half listening. It’s not enough to convince Neytiri, but he hopes that it works to recoup at least some of his pride.
“You have redecorated.” Neytiri comments, though her eyes stay focused on fixing the small section of the necklace that Tsu’tey had messed up. “Your kelku is inviting.”
That pleases Tsu’tey, and he sits up straighter. Decorating has never been a strong suit of his, and it presented more of a challenge than he had initially anticipated to decorate in such a way that it would appeal to a human. He knows you are very interested in the plants of his planet, considering the amount of time you spend studying them, so he has effectively cushioned the rough wooden walls and floors with softer wide leaves. From the ceiling hangs intense blue eanean flowers and hippophae leaves, lending a soft phosphorescent glow to the small space.
“Humans are weak,” Tsu’tey grunts. “Soft bones, fragile skin. She needs soft surroundings, too.”
Neytiri hums her agreement, before finally lifting her head. In her hands, the knot in the half-finished necklace has been unpicked and resolved. She hands it back, and Tsu’tey takes it cautiously into his hands before peering carefully at her work. Her hands are far more practiced in the art of weaving than his; she has done a wonderful job.
“Thank you.” He says quietly. He is appreciative on several levels; for her weaving, for her company, for her support.
She seems to pick up on what he isn’t saying, as usual. “You should approach her again soon. My Jake says that she is sad – she thinks she has upset you, and that you are angry with her.”
Tsu’tey raises his head sharply at that. He’s not sure if he’s more displeased at the idea that you are upset or the fact that you have apparently been confiding in Jakesully. It is difficult to push past the feeling that you should be confiding in him, that he should be the person offering you comfort. But how could you approach him when he was part of the problem?
“I will find her tomorrow.” He decides. The thought of him losing his chance is sickening – he can’t afford to wait until everything is perfectly prepared. He will just have to do his best with what he’s got so far.
Neytiri grins at him, her lips peeling back of her teeth in a way that is both joyful and intimidating.
“Sìltsan tìtaron.” She says, and Tsu’tey finds himself grinning back without conscious thought.
It is a customary saying in their tribe, used for both chasing prey and courting mates. Good hunting.
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When the next day dawns, Tsu’tey curses himself for feeling nervous.
The last time he felt this way was the night before his iknimaya, when he was a fledgling warrior. Even then, he was so confident, his ego inflated by the simple fact that he had never experienced a loss before. 
This time is different. He finds himself anxious in a way that he is utterly unused to experiencing, and it makes him bare his teeth in frustration as he bounds down from his treehut into the village properly. It is already a hive of activity, and the familiar buzz of conversation and laughter eases some of the tension out of his shoulders. 
He will take this slow, he’s already decided. Slow and careful. 
The thought of you refusing him is something that he can’t bring himself to consider; he needs to show you that he is strong, that he is thoughtful and caring, that he can provide for you and keep you safe and make you happy. He has to convince you that there is no one who can care for you better than he can. 
Finding you is easy enough; the human scientists that have remained on the planet follow a routine, and you are no different. Besides, as some of the children in the village tell him, you have been lingering close to the village for days now. Ostensibly you are studying the plantlife, but Tsu’tey knows that you have likely been waiting to catch a glimpse of him. The realisation has a hollow feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach, but he tries to push it aside – he will apologise soon.
He finds you in the forest, only a little while outside of the village. You are not alone; as is standard procedure, you are accompanied by three other scientists and a dreamwalker. 
Norm is as awkward as ever in his Avatar state, discussing whatever he is reading from his demon technology with wide eager eyes. Tsu’tey is familiar with Norm now, mostly against his will – Jakesully is fond of the scientist, and he has been invited to take part in village life on several occasions. Tsu’tey will begrudgingly admit that the dreamwalker is respectful of Na’vi life and culture and he has come to accept his presence both on his planet and around his people, but seeing him around you is making him fidgety.
One of the scientists is armed (and the sight of the gun makes his skin itch from the memory of bullets tearing flesh) and Norm is at least Na’vi-sized, but that is the extent of the protection they have brought. Tsu’tey’s fingers twitch. It is not enough. You are so small and fragile, entirely unsuited for his world. Don’t you know that? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be out here like this with so little to protect you?
You’re so preoccupied with the helicoradian you’re studying that you don’t seem to notice anything else around you. Your head is bowed, your eyes bright and shiny with interest as you inspect the orange pigment dusting the leaves. 
The dappled light that filters through the trees casts shadowy patterns across your face in a way that is nearly mesmerising, and he ends up staring at you for a longer moment than he had originally intended. You are strange-looking and alien to him, and yet his fingers itch with the desire to touch you.
Tsu’tey leaps from the branch he had been watching you from, and lands neatly on the balls of his feet. His movements are nearly soundless, and none of the humans raise their heads. They don’t seem to sense his appearance at all.
His brow furrows in dissatisfaction. Anything could creep up on you, and you would not see it coming until it was too late.
He reaches out one leg and steps purposely on a twig. The snap is resounding, and the man with the gun whirls around and hoists the weapon higher, aiming at Tsu’tey’s chest.
He just bares his teeth in warning.
“No!” You yelp, throwing your hands up as soon as you realise what’s happening. “Don’t shoot him!”
Despite the situation, he’s sure that he looks quite smug. It feels good to experience you standing up for him, even if he doesn’t really need it – he could knock this puny little gun-toting tawtute into the dirt with a single backhand if he wished, though he refrains. He’s trying to be on his best behaviour.
“Fuck!” The little man yells, clearly spooked. “What does he want?”
That makes you falter, and you look up at him with uncertainty. It seems like you’re waiting for an explanation as well. All of the scientists are silent are apprehensive, eyeing him cautiously as they wait to see what he’s going to do. Their eyes linger around the knife strapped to his waist and the longbow strung over his shoulders.
Norm is looking at him with raised eyebrows, his ears perked up. Judging by his expression, Tsu’tey assumes that Norm has guessed exactly what he’s doing here.
“I wish to speak with you,” He tells you in Na’vi – he knows that some of the other scientists will be able to interpret his words, but it brings an illusion of privacy all the same.
You blink, but hesitate. When you don’t agree immediately, Tsu’tey feels his ears pin back. Your uncertainty is surely a bad sign for him – has he misjudged how upset you were?
He turns to the other humans and narrows his eyes at them. “Leave.”
They burst into motion satisfyingly quickly. The moron with the gun looks as though he is about to start arguing, but Norm hooks the long fingers of his demon body into the back of his collar and tugs him away. For once, the scientist is not being a nuisance.
You’re still standing there, turning to stare in apparent bewilderment at your comrades, who are practically fleeing. “What-”
“Come.” Tsu’tey says. Now that it’s just the two of you, he loses some of the edge in his voice.
 When he turns away and begins to lead you into the forest, you follow after him without complaint. Out of the corner of his eye, Tsu’tey can see you twisting your hands nervously. Your clear anxiety has him frowning – he wants you to be comfortable with him, not on edge.
Once he’s determined that you’re both far enough away from the other humans that they could not hear you, he turns to you. You’re already looking at him, fingers twisting as you bite at your lip.
 Calm and steady, Tsu’tey thinks to himself. Just apologise for ignoring her.
Apologising does not come easy to him, but he rolls his shoulder and takes a breath before opening his mouth.
“I’m sorry!” You blurt before he can make even a sound.
That throws him, and he ends up staring at you with his mouth ajar for a long moment like an absolute moron. Why are you apologising? This isn’t how this was supposed to go.
“I didn’t mean to get sick,” You continue, a little desperately, “I really did appreciate your hunting, it was very impressive and the meat was very nice, I swear I didn’t mean to come across as ungrateful-”
Oh no, are those tears he sees shining in your eyes? 
Tsu’tey feels as though he’s been frozen in place. He knows that his face is stuck in a confused scowl, but he can’t soften his expression no matter how hard he tries. Panic starts to curdle in his stomach. He may be a seasoned warrior, fearless in the face of fearsome opponents, but he finds himself at a total loss in this situation.
You just keep going – his silence seems to be making you even more upset. “I never meant to offend you, and I’m so, so sorry if I have. I never meant to make you angry-”
Finally, Tsu’tey manages to find his voice. “I am not angry.”
Even he has to admit that he doesn’t sound particularly convincing, but he’s never been an eloquent person. How does he explain that he’s not angry at you, he’s frustrated with himself? Right now, with you staring up at him with your eyelashes all wet and clumped together as your lower lip trembles, he feels like kicking his own ass.
He needs to make his move now, he realises wildly. Be conciliatory, he thinks. Let her know you are interested.
His voice sticks in his throat, but he manages to push the words out. They come out slightly strangled, but semi-confident all the same.
“Would you like to come fishing?”
You hesitate, and Tsu’tey feels his heart seize in his chest – you’re not going to turn him down, are you?
“Would I-” You begin, face crumpling. “What?”
Despite all the similarities in your bodies and faces, Tsu’tey finds himself floundering when it comes to reading your expressions. Is that disappointment? Confusion? Anger? It’s so difficult to tell with your tiny blunt ears and lack of a tail.
“Fishing.” He repeats. His own tail lashes restlessly, the only part of his body that moves at all. “Come and watch me fish.”
It doesn’t come out quite as smoothly as he had planned in his head the night before, sounding a little more like an order than an invitation, but Tsu’tey thinks it’s a victory just to get the words out at all.
You look a little lost, but you nod all the same. Your tears are blinked away, your expression smoothing a little. Is Tsu’tey imagining it, or do you look hopeful?
“I- alright.” You swallow, and your hands reach up to tug at your hair in what appears to be a compulsive sort of movement. “Yes. Fishing. Right.”
Tsu’tey barely stifles his reaction. A success. He can’t stop his ears from pricking up, but otherwise he tries to appear neutral – he doesn’t want to scare you off. 
“Come then.”
Just like before, you follow him readily through the jungle. He is careful to keep his back to you �� it is a display of trust, to show off his conviction that you will do him no harm. It is mostly symbolic in your case, considering that you are unlikely to cause him any real harm even if you wanted to, but he is determined to carry out these courting rituals correctly even if the rest of this courtship is unconventional. 
His ears are pricked the whole time for signs of danger or any other signs of life approaching, and to ensure that you are close behind as the two of you make your way towards the river winding towards the Omaticaya stronghold.
“You don’t have a fishing rod.” You say when you both finally reach the river.
Tsu’tey has no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds as though you’re doubting his ability to fish. 
He frowns, turning to squint at you – is this a challenge? Do you require him to prove his prowess right away? Displays of physical prowess and skill are part of the courting process, but he had thought that he had already done that with the hunt you had witnessed. But then again, the meat from the prey of that particular hunt had made you sick – perhaps you had decided not to count that hunt as an official courting display. 
You stare back at him, looking perfectly innocent, if a little confused.
Fine. Tsu’tey straightens his back, and pulls his bow from his back. If it’s a display of prowess that you want, that’s what you’ll get.
In one smooth movement, he draws, nocks, and looses an arrow. It lands true, hitting home in the sleek, smooth body of a large fish that has just darted out from behind a stone lodged in the riverbank. 
You let out a startled sort of sound, but lean forward quickly as Tsu’tey strides into the water and reaches for his catch. He had been planning on drawing this fishing display out a little longer, but it seems that you’re a demanding little thing. He doesn’t mind that; if anything, it will make satisfying you all the more exciting.
He retrieves his catch and holds it up for you to see. The fish is a large one, and it glints in the sweet sunshine that streams through the canopy of trees above you. It is a catch to be proud of, but he is careful not to be too pleased with himself until you react.
You laugh at the sight of the smooth glinting silver surface of his catch, clapping your hands together.
“Oh!” You call out, and you sound delighted. “Amazing! You make it look so easy!”
The praise sends a pleasant warmth effusing through his chest, and he feels a slow, hesitant grin begin to spread across his face.
“I am good at providing.” He tells you earnestly, stepping forward. He snaps off the long shaft of the arrow before proffering the fish towards you for your inspection.
You glance down, still smiling, but you don’t look particularly closely at his catch. That dulls some of his satisfaction – he glances down at the fish himself, wondering if there was something about it you found lacking.
“I know.” You murmur, tilting your head as you gaze up at him with lidded eyes. “You’re strong.”
His ears twitch like a child’s, and he nods, pleased. Hearing those words coming from the person he has chosen as a prospective mate fills him with a type of excitement that he has never experienced before. As a tawtute, you cannot connect with Eywa or with the People; but in this moment, Tsu’tey feels as though you see him anyway. 
He swallows, and sets his catch aside in the pouch at his waist. He feels flustered in a way that is entirely unlike him, and he has to push his reactions down deep. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a silly little youngling – he wants you to see that he has taken this decision to court you seriously.
Time for the next step.
“We are close to an area where the Tsahìk gathers her herbs for medicine,” He says, clearing his throat as he turns to look at you with wide, earnest eyes. “I have offered to collect some for her. Would you like to help?”
Plants have always fascinated you – he knows that the original reason that you came to his planet was to study the wildlife and the flora. He waits, hoping that he’s right in thinking that this is something you will enjoy.
Your strange, sweet little face brightens. “Really?”
Tsu’tey nods, relieved by your reaction. “You would like this?”
“Yes!” You breathe. For the first time since he had approached you, you relax in earnest and Tsu’tey finds himself mirroring you. 
He reaches out and cups your elbow as he helps you step over a log, and he doesn’t miss the little shiver and quick glance that you send towards his hand where it’s wrapped around your arm. It seems like you’re just as taken with the size difference between you as he is, and his lips begin to curl in excitement at the realisation. 
This is good, He thinks, biting at the inside of his cheek. He is very slow to remove his hand, and you make no move to shake him off. Very good.
Tsu’tey does not want to speak too soon, but he feels as though his courting attempts are going very well indeed.
You had loved gathering the medicinal herbs with him, even more than he had hoped – you had badgered him with questions, curious about the names of the plants and their properties and their appearances, and you had bounded along at his side with a bright grin the whole time. It had pleased him greatly to experience your interest in the ways of the Omaticaya and the life of his planet; it was proof that you could be taught, that you were willing to learn.
And most thrillingly of all, you were receptive to his advances. Over the next couple of days, he continues with his cautious attempts at approaching you with little gestures.
When he gives you flowers and pretty leaves, you take them with brilliant, near-blinding smiles. Every time he shows off by flexing or practicing wrestling with the other warriors, you watch with interested eyes and tiny smiles. Whenever he tentatively touches you, small brushes to your shoulders or hands or waist, you never flinch away – on several occasions, you lean into him. 
He tries not to let it go to his head, but it’s difficult. Since he’s started to admit his urges and his attraction to you, he swears it’s gotten worse. It feels like all he thinks about is you. He’s distracted during training, during his duties, during meals. He thinks about your reactions to his offerings, to your smiles, your scent, your voice. It really does feel like an illness, but it’s one he’s beginning to come to terms with if it means having you close by.
It’s beginning to get more difficult to keep his hands to himself. Traditionally, at this point in a courtship it would be acceptable for a courting pair to exchange flirtatious touches and other little intimacies, but Tsu’tey is aware that this is not exactly a conventional courtship. 
He’s trying to be careful, to avoid spooking you or making you uncomfortable or uneasy, but it’s beginning to wear on him. Though he’s getting bolder with his little touches, it’s not enough to quench the skin-hunger growing in him.
But no matter. The courtship is going well, and moving at a good pace. The next step is one of the most important ones. 
His carefully woven courtship necklace has been completed. It is customary to present a potential mate with a statement piece of jewelry, and Tsu’tey has spent several late nights fussing over the finishing touches. He recognises on some level that he’s stalling; it’s not in his nature to be nervous, but he’s beginning to grow nearly obsessive about getting the necklace as perfect as possible. It has been crafted to fit you exactly, with fibres and beads selected by him personally based on what he thinks you would like and what he thinks would suit your features. 
The finished product is eye-catching, and Tsu’tey feels nearly delirious at the thought of it decorating your neck. 
He crushes any semblance of nerves as best as he can, just like he might have done before a big hunt.
Of course you will accept his mating advances. Why wouldn't you? He is a strong warrior, a protector, desired by a great number of women. He could likely pick any woman he wanted out of the available women in the clan, and they would be honoured. Why would you be any different? You may be difficult to read at times, but he has laid his intentions out loud and clear and you have not shied away. You would accept him. 
His mating necklace for you feels like it’s weighing him down as he steps through the village. It’s tucked safely into the pouch at his waist, though his hand keeps drifting to his hip to check that it’s still there. He’s not unaware of the looks he gets as he makes his way towards the edge of the encampment, but he ignores them. No doubt many of his people have guessed at what he’s up to, but he can’t give them his attention right now; he’s too focused on you, now that he spots you sitting next to one of the large pxiut trees.
Your head is bowed over your silly little notebook, lost entirely in your own world. Tsu’tey’s steps slow as he approaches you, taking the opportunity to drink in the sight of you while you’re unaware of his gaze.
His eyes track over the curves of your strange features, the slope of your alien nose, the arch of your neck. Your features may be exotic, but he’s finally beginning to admit to himself what he’s been trying to deny for a while now – you’re attractive to him.
He likes your weird little face, your odd five-fingered hands, your thick silly accent when you speak his language. He likes that you are so much smaller than him, he likes that you are soft. 
He appreciates that you are patient with him, too. He knows he can be gruff and surly, and most people find him off-putting or intimidating, especially when they don’t know him. But you – you’re so calm and sweet, and you never seem to care when he’s stoically silent beside you. Most of the time when he’s around you, most of his brain-power goes into trying to keep his hands to himself, and he doesn’t have much intellectual power left to attempt conversation. He’s content with simply listening to you about whatever it is you wish to talk about, occasionally chiming in to ask a question or just to hum gently to show you he’s listening.
As he watches, you shift where you’re sitting and reach up to scratch absently at your neck. Beneath your odd human garments, your skin is glowing lightly with a thin sheen of sweat. Tsu’tey finds his eyes tracking over your exposed skin like a moron, and he clenches his jaw as he pulls himself together.
You're a warrior, you're a warrior, you’re a warrior, he chants in his head. He would not be cowed or intimidated by a tiny human.
You raise your head as he approaches, and a smile unfolds across your face. Your expression is bright, full of pure innocent happiness just to see him. He wavers, and nearly turns right back around.
“Hey, big guy.” You call out, setting your notebook aside as you beam at him. 
You’re waiting for him to join you, he realises. He jolts forward, his previously confident stride turning a little jerky under your sharp eyes.
“Hello, little demon.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low and level.
You bite at your lip, still watching him with that little smile on your face. He watches you back just as closely, even as he sinks down to sit next with you. Your smile melts into a little look of surprise; usually, when he comes to you it’s so he can invite you somewhere else, either to show you something or to give you something. Joining you as you just sit is new for both of you.
For a moment, you’re both quiet. It seems like you’re waiting on him to speak, but he stays silent. He’s trying to compose himself, to appear cool and calm as he reaches his hand towards the woven bag slung around his waist.
Finally, he says, “I have something for you.”
It comes out impressively calm and level. While he’s not a man prone to nerves or to doubting himself, this is entirely new territory for him. When your expression brightens into a look of excitement, he feels a new little seed of confidence build in his chest. You’re anticipating his gift, you want it. 
When he slips his hand into his bag, you sit up onto your knees so that you can watch him. Over the last few weeks, you’ve gotten used to receiving little flowers, plants, beads, or little carved figures. You accept each one with your usual brilliant, sweet smile; the thought of how you may smile at him when he gives you the necklace makes Tsu’tey’s tail flick eagerly.
He pulls it carefully out and hands it to you. As you take it your fingers brush his, and he twitches slightly as he stares at how small your hands are next to his.
“Oh,” You breathe, lifting up the necklace to eye level so you can get a good look at it. “I… Really? For me?”
“Yes.” He says simply, his eyes sharp and alert as they drink in every minute flicker that crosses your face. What are you thinking? 
“It…” You begin, and then pause. Tsu’tey is just beginning to feel like crawling out of his skin when you slowly continue. “Tsu’tey, it’s beautiful.”
You so rarely say his name, choosing instead to call him variations of big guy, and he feels a near physical jolt run down his spine at the sound of it in your mouth. He wants to hear you say it again.
He just hums, still watching your face. You are examining the necklace intently, fingering the beads and the weavework, and he feels his pride inflate the longer you inspect his work. You are giving real, earnest thought to his offering rather than simply making your decision rashly. He respects this, and revels under the careful consideration you’re giving his proposal. 
“You like it?” He murmurs. His voice comes out rougher than he had intended, and you jerk your head up to look at him.
Like this, your faces are very close together. Tsu’tey had leaned closer unconsciously as you were examining the necklace, and he makes no attempt to back off. Likewise, you make no attempt to retreat either, blinking up at him from behind the odd clear surface of your bubble-like mask.
“Yes,” You whisper, a shy, cautious smile beginning to bloom across your face. “Did you make this yourself?”
Tsu’tey just huffs. What sort of fool wouldn’t make their mating offering themselves?
 “Of course.”
“Oh.” You bite at your lip. You seem to be trying to suppress your smile, though he can’t imagine why. He wants to see it, now more than ever.
You are certainly not racing to give him an answer. Your fingers trace over the beads, taking your time to admire the craftsmanship. Your obvious appreciation is certainly inflating his ego, but the longer you go without giving him a firm answer, the more agitated he gets. He hides it as best as he can, aiming to appear cool and unflappable. He is a warrior – he doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who is easily ruffled.
When you finally turn to look up at him, your eyes are shining. He can’t help but sit up a little straighter, watching you very carefully as he awaits your decision.
You proffer the necklace back to him, and Tsu’tey feels his stomach positively plummet. He truly hadn’t considered what he would do if you refused him.
“Will you help me put it on?” You ask, a little shyly.
The relief nearly bowls him over. Tsu’tey swears his stomach jolts so violently that he nearly makes a truly undignified sound. You are not refusing him – you wish for assistance. 
“Yes.” He says lowly and seriously, taking the necklace back. 
You beam again, then turn your back to him and bow your head to give him access to your neck. Tsu’tey’s heart thumps dully in his chest at the display of trust and vulnerability, though he keeps his face carefully still.
As he reaches out and slips the necklace around your neck, he gives in to his weakness and allows his fingers to drift over your shoulder. Your skin is so soft, your frame lacking the lean hard musculature that is so common among his own people, and he allows himself a moment to admire the feeling of you beneath his hands before finally beginning to tie the two ends of the necklace together.
He can feel you breathing carefully beneath his hands, the steady rise and fall of your chest matching the thumping rhythm of his own heart. The blood is rushing through his ears as his knuckles brush over one of the knobs of your spine at the base of your neck and you shiver in response.  
Success, his instincts are screaming at him. Success.
When he finally pulls his hands back, you turn to look at him through your eyelashes behind your breathing mask. The corner of his mouth twitches as he eyes the way the necklace sits above your collarbones; a perfect fit.
It probably goes without saying that you have accepted his advances, but the customs of the Sky People are odd and he wants to make certain.
“You accept, then?” He asks, reaching out and settling his fingers over the woven fibres of the necklace. You’re small under his hand – his fingers reach one of your shoulders and his palm reaches the other, dwarfing you. 
Your head tilts, a little frown creasing your brow, before you smile and nod. “Of course I accept it. It’s very lovely. I’m honoured. I didn’t know that you made your own jewelry.”
The last piece of mating jewelry he had crafted had been a bracelet for Sylwanin. It’s not something that he wants to think about right now, so he shrugs roughly.
“I do not, usually. This is different.”
“Oh.” You say, a little breathlessly.
Tsu’tey’s tail twitches recklessly. It’s time for the next step.
“I would take you to my hut.” He begins cautiously, watching your face. “It is finished now. I have made it comfortable.”
You blink, and take a careful breath. He wonders what you’re thinking. 
“I would like that.” You say quietly, your eyes drifting towards his tail, which is twitching as he awaits your answer.
Triumph soars in his chest, and a slow smile begins to spread over his face. This feels better than any hunt, any accolade, any success he has previously enjoyed. This one is his and his alone – you see him, you want to be his just as he wants to be yours.
You appear to get flustered, and look down at his twitching tail in an apparent effort to distract yourself. You watch the movement, your own lips beginning to curve, before you reach out to touch it.
Tsu’tey goes entirely still, his eyes flaring wider in surprise. He doesn’t pull away, watching intently as your fingers trail over the thin, sensitive skin of his tail. It is bold of you, so bold it nearly steals his breath away. 
“You’re like a cat.” You say, and laugh.
Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, and just continues to stare at you. You’re still holding his tail in your warm, soft hand. The fact that he isn’t pulling away seems to embolden you even more, before you start to bite your lip as you look up at him. 
Tsu’tey takes a soft, quiet breath – do you even know what you’re doing to him right now? Desire is beginning to pool, dark and hot, in his belly as your fingers stroke absently over the thin skin of his tail, your liquid eyes gazing up at him with that shy, enigmatic little smile playing over your face.
Slow and steady, he tells himself firmly, fighting to stay composed. He doesn’t want to scare you away by moving too quickly, but your soft warm hands and sweet little smiles are making it terribly difficult. He wants to touch you back, but he doesn’t want to startle you.
“Sorry,” You murmur, apparently growing self-conscious. You begin to pull back. “I didn’t mean to-”
“You may touch me.” He interrupts before you pull too far back. He has been intimate with women before, but this moment with you feels infinitely more intimate and illicit than anything he has experienced before. 
You watch him in return, eyes bright. Is he imagining the excitement on your face, mirroring his own feelings?
Slowly, you trace up his tail. His skin shivers under your touch, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in a little closer as your fingers move from his tail to his chest, tracing over the lighter stripes on his skin. It feels as though your touch is leaving trails of heat in its wake, and he fights to keep his breathing steady and even as your eyes follow the path of your fingers.
His own fingers twitch, but he keeps his hands to himself. He wants to give this to you, to allow you the opportunity to be in charge of this moment. You’ve always been curious, and watching you exploring his own body only stokes his desire – but he holds back. He will be patient, and he will take this slow. He wants to do this whole thing right.
Your fingers trail down over the defined muscles of his abdomen, and he flexes entirely on instinct. You must like what you see, because your smile turns bashful as you trace your way around his waist.
He’s so preoccupied with watching your face that he doesn’t watch where your hands go next. It means that he is taken entirely by surprise when he feels your delicate, small fingers wrap around his kuru.
His back goes ramrod straight, his eyes flaring wide in shock. It was an innocent touch, only wrapping around the protective braid curiously, but the sheer fact that his prospective mate, wearing the mating gift he had made, holds the most intimate and sacred part of him in their hands has his toes curling into the dirt where you sit. 
A jolt of pure, liquid elation jolts down his spine. No partner of his has ever touched his kuru – it was saved specifically for a mate. And though you may not be capable of making tsaheylu with him, the sheer sensation of you holding this sacred part of him nearly makes his vision white out.
“Oh!” He hears your voice say as though from a distance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-!”
He’s sure his pupils are blown wide, his ears alert and hot. He wants to reassure you that your overstep is most welcome, but it feels as though his brain has half-melted.
“Tsu’tey?”
He comes back to himself, though his thoughts are still scattered. As he regains some of his awareness, he realises that his desire is beginning to grow obvious beneath his loincloth. 
Fuck. He was meant to be taking it slow! He couldn’t invite you to his hut and then grow so visibly aroused in front of you; it was not honourable, and he did not want you to feel pressured.
He lurches backwards, nearly sprawling in the dirt. It’s a graceless movement, ungainly and unlike him, but then again all of this is entirely outside of his realm of experience. 
You’re staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, your hand still raised in midair.
“I have to go.” He says sharply, pushing himself to his feet. It’s all he can think to do to preserve both of your dignities before he ruins his careful courtship plans with his own reckless desires.
“But-” You start, your face crumpling. “Am I still invited-”
“I must go,” He repeats, hastily angling himself so that you can’t see his front. 
He takes several firm steps away before hesitating, then turns back to look at you. “Tomorrow. You may come back tomorrow.”
You still look utterly bewildered, but Tsu’tey hurries away all the same. As he goes, he adjusts his tewng as surreptitiously as possible. 
Despite his tactical retreat, he feels more optimistic than he has in a long time. As he approaches the village he feels a feral triumphant grin begin to grow over his face. That likely could have gone smoother at the end, but overall he finds himself feeling impossibly pleased with himself. 
He has succeeded at his attempt at courting a human, and he has done so without Jakesully’s help. You have accepted all his gifts, you agreed to come and see his hut, and judging by the way you had groped at his tail and his kuru, physical attraction certainly wouldn’t be a problem for either of you.
 It has left him excited for tomorrow, and yearning for more of your soft little hands against his skin.
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nothingbutsweetwords · 5 months ago
Text
ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ
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ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ
"ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀʀ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ..."
Word count: 6000.
Fandom: House of the Dragon.
Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.
Warnings: Angst.
FALLING — 7. Her.
During the first moons of her stay at the Red Keep, everything seemed new and exciting. There was some sense of freedom in not having her family around, but with each sunrise, it became more complicated, and the longing grew stronger.
The letters she received from her mother initially brought comfort, but soon they became short. No matter how many words her mother wrote about her, her siblings, and her father, it was never enough. She wrote daily, though she only sent them every three days. She would tell her about her day, always omitting her nightly outings, and tried to hide how much she missed them, and her mother, worried, always asked about Aemond's progress.
Over time, even all the letters became inadequate; they couldn't fill the void she felt. She longed to hear their voices, feel the warmth of their hugs. She questioned a few times if it had been a good idea, but she quickly dismissed those thoughts to remain resolute.
Aemond spent most of his time in the yard, both morning and evening, promising to become the best warrior for her. This caused their visits to the library to decrease. Nevertheless, every night without fail, they slept together, face to face, finding solace in each other's presence.
Her lessons with the septa became increasingly tedious, or perhaps she just grew more easily bored. She spent a lot of time in Helaena's room, who seemed happy to have her. Helaena continued to intrigue her with riddles and enigmatic phrases, making her wonder when each prediction would come true. So far, none seemed bad, so she wasn't frightened or worried. Helaena also helped her improve her embroidery technique, although there wasn't much to be done; it wasn't her strong suit. Soon, the lack of activities even led her to become interested in her insects, delighted to see her aunt’s enthusiasm.
One day, while sitting on the floor, Helaena placed a ladybug on her hand. "It tickles" she said, laughing softly as the insect walked across her palm. Helaena smiled at her, happy to share her passion with someone.
"They all have seven dots, the red ones" Helaena said, revealing an interesting curiosity. "She likes you" she added, looking her in the eyes with a slight smile. She thanked her for saying that.
"What about those?" she asked, pointing to a wooden box with a transparent lid, where several insects could be seen inside. There were some spiders and others she couldn't name.
When Helaena turned to look in the direction her finger pointed, her smile faded a bit. She took the box in her hands and allowed her to observe them from above, while the ladybug continued to walk between her fingers and fly from one hand to the other.
"I do not trust them yet" she said quietly. "I am not sure whether their wishes are for good or ill."
“Why?” she asked, genuinely curious.
Helaena pointed to a large black spider from above and said: "They weave intricate webs, and sometimes those webs can hide important secrets. I'm still trying to unravel which ones" she said, frowning. "But what I know is, we have to beware of the guardian of secrets" she warned, as if wanting to protect her from an-as-yet unknown danger. She simply nodded, hoping nothing bad would come of it.
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As time passed, life at the castle continued with its ups and downs; Aemond's training, the enigmatic conversations with Helaena, the whispers of the people, and the few letters from her mother. Even through it all, she found moments of peace, and convinced herself that despite the challenges, she was exactly where she needed to be, next to him.
Occasionally, she found distraction by visiting her grandsire's room. She spent hours there, reading to him, listening to his fascinating stories about their ancestors and the old Valyria. Often, she asked for tales about her mother's youth, seeking to feel closer to her.
She had also begun to insist on Lyra's presence during every meal, finding in her company a sense of familiarity, a relief from her growing homesickness. As expected, everything began to feel cramped, and Lyra, as perceptive as ever, had noticed it, and she herself could no longer ignore it.
She missed her family terribly, and there was nothing that could ease that pain, except the obvious. She felt trapped, guilty for wanting to go to Dragonstone and leave Aemond behind, but she couldn't help it.
"Could it be that, perhaps, I've made a mistake coming here?" she asked one night, her voice filled with doubt and shame for exposing her deepest thoughts.
"I do not think things are that simple, princess. You came here with good intentions, and missing your family is only natural, it does not mean you have made a mistake" Lyra replied gently.
She nodded, acknowledging the truth in those words. "I do really miss them" she murmured, longing evident, head bowed. "No matter how hard I try, this is not my home."
"Why do you say that, princess?" After dinner, Lyra had drawn her a warm bath, and now, in her nightdress, Lyra was gently brushing her long hair.
"I've heard the whispers when I walk alone in the halls." Lyra nodded, understanding the situation and listening attentively to her words. Both were sitting on the bed, and she was with her back facing her lady-in-waiting, between her legs. "It's as if they believe me deaf. I know what they say or think, and it's not... good" she confessed, pain reflected in her voice.
Upon hearing her last words, Lyra set the brush aside and drew her close, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. Lyra was the daughter of one of Rhaenyra's ladies-in-waiting and had lived her entire life in that family. Though only a few years older, she felt a deep maternal love for the princess. 
"We must not let such foolish words disturb our ears, and if they do, let us ensure they do not enter our precious minds, yes?" Lyra said, whispering with firmness. "They mean nothing."
She nodded, and unable to contain herself, she began to cry softly in her caretaker's arms. They remained like that for a while until she could calm down. She appreciated Lyra's love and understanding, feeling fortunate to have someone like that by her side, watching over her well-being.
After some time, Lyra left the room, wishing her goodnight. This was her signal to get up, put on her cloak over her shoulders, dampen her face a bit to erase any trace of dry tears, and take the gift she had prepared so much for him with the help of her mother. With a mix of excitement and nervousness, she headed towards her destination, seeking to find another place of peace and connection amidst the storm of emotions that assailed her.
Aemond's nameday wasn't until the next morning, but she never had much patience for such things. That night, like all others, she entered the room with a candle in one hand, only now she hid the gift behind her back with the other.
Aemond was sitting by the window, his gaze fixed on the night sky. She closed the door with her hip, as both her hands were occupied, and walked over to him. Aemond's face showed signs of fatigue, even some sadness. She knew he was trying to stay awake while waiting for her, as always. The notion of time had escaped her during the shared moment with Lyra, and he always ended up terribly exhausted by his training. Seeing her arrive, Aemond settled and offered a tired smile. She circled the bed, placing the candle on the small table, and with her free hand, she took off her cloak, hiding the gift underneath on the nearby chair.
She walked towards him slowly, observing the clear sky. The moon shone over the city, enhancing the delicacy of his face.
"This is how the night was when I claimed Vhagar" he said, with sorrow. Her heart squeezed at his words, she sadly knew he would never have a flight like that again.
"What was it like?" she finally asked, cautiously. She had never dared to ask about that moment, fearing to reopen wounds, but now that he mentioned it, her curiosity stirred again.
He smiled, still looking at the sky. "I never imagined flying would feel like that" he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "Did it ever trouble you when I did?" he asked.
"What? Claim Vhagar?" she inquired, surprised by his question.
"Yes" he said softly, his voice tinged with apprehension.
She smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder, her eyes reflecting pride. "Of course not. It was meant for you, a warrior destined for a warrior." Her words carried a sense of admiration and certainty, a testament to her unwavering belief in his capabilities. "And that was just the beginning, Aemond. Together, you will be unstoppable" she said, her voice whispering with conviction and anticipation. "I do feel safer knowing we have you as protectors."
"Thank you" he expressed, hopeful. She knew the journey was just beginning, and the horizon stretched like a promise of all the adventures to come. "I did it on behalf of us both." She smiled gratefully, gently squeezing him.
"I know they will write books that will pass through all the ages, Aemond, about your courage and triumph" she said, walking towards the sofa.
"I'm not sure about that much" he replied, laughing lightly at her words.
"Then I will be the one to write them" she said, pulling the gift from under her cloak. "Close your eye" she instructed, with an excited smile. Aemond obeyed, but not before giving her an odd look.
"Open your hands" she indicated once she was in front of him again. He did so without question, and with a gentle gesture, she placed the gift in his hands, which lowered slightly at the unexpected weight.
"Now you can look" she whispered. Aemond did so quickly, and looked surprised at the delicate blue velvet bag. She was looking at him with excitement and a touch of nervousness. It was the first time she had given such a planned gift to someone, and she hoped not to disappoint. But even if she did, she would never find out, as he would never show it.
"It's your nameday present" she explained with a radiant smile. "I couldn't wait to give it to you on the morrow, and I wanted to be the first one to do it" she said, letting out a small laugh from her lips.
"I love it" he replied, placing the gift on his lap and looking directly at her, the faint moonlight adorning his gaze with a softness that made him appear even more beautiful.
"You haven't even seen it!" she exclaimed, softly laughing. "Come on, open it."
"I would love anything you gave me" he said laughing too, while untying the laces of the velvet bag to reveal the gift. She had a premonition that his words were sincere.
He carefully pulled the wooden case out of the bag. It was made of ebony, so its color was dark like the night, almost black, and was decorated with delicate carvings. He ran his hand over the surface, appreciating the abstract shapes as if they were a work of art. He had a slightly open mouth as he admired the case with admiration. Then, carefully, he opened it, revealing the true gift.
Inside rested a valyrian steel dagger, shining and forged with impeccable craftsmanship. Its sharp, polished blade reflected the light with a silver shine. Each side of it was adorned with intricate engravings that wound from the hilt to the edge.
His eyes lit up upon seeing it, and a sincere smile spread across his face. "It's valyrian steel" she explained enthusiastically, "so you'll always carry a piece of our roots."
The handle was equally impressive. It was wrapped in black leather, a material that, according to the smith, provided a more comfortable and secure grip. However, the highlight was the sapphires embedded in the handle. The sapphires, of a deep and radiant blue, were skillfully set into the metal, creating a vibrant contrast with the silver. Each sapphire was carefully polished, capturing flashes of light that gave the impression of small stars embedded in the hilt.
The guard of the dagger, also made of steel, was decorated with intertwining motifs that complemented the sapphires in the handle. Aemond took it in his hands carefully, observing every detail meticulously.
She had often heard him speak about Viserys's dagger, seeing the longing in his eyes when he did so, as well as the sadness knowing he could never possess it. That's why she had tried to make something unique for him, something exclusively his, perhaps even something that could be passed down to future Targaryens, always remembered as his.
He set the dagger aside and looked at the box. Inside was a sapphire too. She knew some people carried those precious gemstones as talismans, believing they protected the eyes and helped see beyond the physical. Besides, she had always thought the color matched his eyes. It seemed like a thoughtful detail, but she didn't dare mention its significance.
"My father gave me two he brought back from one of his expeditions to the Stepstones a few years ago" she explained, smiling as he held the sapphire between his fingers, admiring it in the light streaming through the window. "I have the other one" she added shyly. "So you always have a piece of sky, or sea, and I hope it always reminds you that you are destined for something big." He set the sapphire aside and continued to observe. She wondered if he would be attentive enough to explore further, and of course, he was.
The box was lined with more velvet and there was a small cushion where the dagger rested. During her lessons and visits to Helaena, she had embroidered the fabric, and the tailor had turned it into this. She had tried to depict waves and the moon in different shades of blue and teal, with some white stars. They might not have been perfect, but she had poured her heart into them.
He traced the fabric with his fingers, still not saying a word.
"I embroidered it" she added proudly. Then he put the dagger back in the case, but kept the sapphire in his hand. She waited anxiously for his words. "I’m sure it does not compare to Viserys', but..."
"It's perfect" he interrupted, his voice sincere. She let out a sigh she didn't know she'd been holding, a wave of relief and happiness at his reaction. "I..." he began, hesitating. He shook his head slightly, searching for words. Then he put the case back in the velvet bag and stepped away from the window ledge. Once face to face, he hugged her unexpectedly. With one hand he held the gift and with the other he held her tightly. She returned the embrace with a smile, now more relaxed. 
"Thank you" he whispered, holding her even tighter, their hearts almost merging in that hug. When they separated, his eye sparkled, holding back some tears, just like hers. "Let us go to bed" he said, noticing his body was cold from being pressed against the window glass. He approached a shelf where he kept some of his most precious books and now his most precious object, then headed for the bed, placing the sapphire on the bedside table after admiring it again.
Smiling, they both got under the covers, facing each other, feeling their bodies warming up again. They both reached out their hands at the same time, their hands meeting in the middle. They laughed softly and intertwined their fingers in the middle of the bed. It was their routine, talking like this, face to face, until they ran out of things to say, with their hands joined. Then they slept together, sometimes with her head on his chest, sometimes with him nestled in her arms.
"I loved it" he said sincerely. "Absolutely everything," he assured her, "no one has ever given me a better present."
She smiled proudly, happy with his words. "I'm glad you liked it."
They looked at each other in silence. It was a comfortable silence, warm even. It was at that moment, suddenly, while they looked at each other, that hundreds of thoughts flooded her mind like a torrent. Did everyone experience something as wonderful as this? Did everyone have someone to whom giving the whole world, along with their heart on a silver platter, seemed not enough? Did everyone's heart beat so wildly when looking someone in the eyes? Or was it something that only happened when it was the most beautiful face in the kingdom gazing back at them?
She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when she saw that he seemed to want to say something too. They both remained silent, waiting for the other to speak first.
"You can go first" she said softly.
"No, you're a lady, you go" he insisted courteously.
"No, please, you tell me" she said, almost pleading with her eyes, though she wasn't exactly sure what she hoped to hear, still trying to understand the strange sensation in her chest.
"Tell me, please" he echoed at the same time, and they laughed again at the coincidence.
"You're my best friend" he exclaimed finally.
"You're my best friend" she replied, in perfect sync.
They laughed again, and as they truly heard each other's words, they smiled. She felt warmth rise in her cheeks. At that moment, everything made sense to her. That special, innocent feeling, that pure joy, so complex yet so simple, was love. She didn't need to fully understand it to know it was real, and that it was reciprocated.
They lingered for a moment, lost in each other's gaze. Aemond's eyes glowed with a tenderness that mirrored her own. Without needing more words, they leaned in slowly and shared a hug filled with affection and silent promises. The moonlight bathed the room, enveloping them in its silver glow. Every moment seemed magical, as if time had stopped just for them.
In that instant, in the tranquility of the night, they both knew that despite the challenges, they would always have that special bond that united them.
Finally, they settled comfortably under the covers, still close, their hearts beating in unison, and they embraced the serenity.
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Once back in her room, she spent the day with Lyra again. If it were up to her, she would have spent the entire day with Aemond, but she knew he would break fast with his mother as usual. Later, he would be busy with his training, something that excited him especially now, with the anticipation of wielding a real sword, finally, as he had come of age for it.
At dusk, after writing to her mother and enjoying a hot bath, the woman helped her dress in the carefully chosen attire for the occasion. She opted for a flowing blue dress and some delicate jewelry. As Lyra began to brush her hair, preparing to style it up as she always did, she decided to change her mind.
Aemond had always praised her curls, often running his fingers through them in the night until he drifted off to sleep, and she thought it would be a pleasant surprise for him to wear her hair loose, something she only did in the privacy of their rooms.
When she was almost ready, Lyra was about to accompany her to the hall where the feast would take place, but they heard soft knocks on the door. Few were the times someone sought out her room, so both were intrigued. Lyra walked towards the door and opened it, while she adjusted the sandals that complemented her dress. When she looked up, she found Aemond standing in front of her, looking at her in awe, with Lyra behind him, barely able to hide her huge smile biting her lower lip.
She felt the blush rise to her cheeks, they were not accustomed to being so close in front of other people, so she didn't know how to react, a little flustered with her lady-in-waiting standing there.
Aemond's hair was neatly tied back in a half ponytail. His left side was partly covered by the patch he wore during his training, and he was dressed in a handsome green suit.
"I’ve come to escort you, princess" he murmured shyly, mindful of the third presence. She smiled and nodded, walking towards him and taking his right arm.
"Happy nameday, my prince. May you both enjoy a good supper" Lyra chimed in, opening the door for them to leave.
"Thank you, my lady" Aemond replied courteously before walking out of the room.
Once out of the enthusiastic gaze, she squeezed his arm and looked at him. "Happy nameday, my prince."
He looked at her with a smile that radiated happiness as he guided her through the dimly lit corridors by torchlight, the sun already hidden. "Thank you, my princess." The next words seemed to come with a touch of adoration and nervousness. "You look beautiful tonight... well, you always do, but tonight especially so."
She responded with a grateful smile. "You look lovely too, as always, my prince." He smiled faintly, an expression that denoted a hint of skepticism, as if he couldn't quite believe all the compliments she gave him. As they walked together, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor, she broke the silence with a curious question. "What gifts have you received so far?"
With a gleam of joy in his eyes, he replied, "my grandsire had a new saddle made for Vhagar. It's magnificent." His voice filled with enthusiasm. "My mother gave me some ancient books from Oldtown, and she also surprised me with Daeron's visit. I barely remembered his face." She widened her eyes in surprise, vaguely recalling Daeron, who was her age and whom she had seen only once. "Helaena gave me a suit embroidered by herself, with two intertwined dragons" he said with palpable excitement, hoping it meant something. "And Viserys gave me a Valyrian steel sword, with a belt that also has space for a dagger. Aegon mentioned he would give me his present later" he concluded happily. 
She smiled, glad that each gift sounded well thought out, just right for him, although still puzzled why he referred to his father by his name. As they finished their conversation, they found themselves standing in front of the imposing doors of the grand hall. Instinctively, both separated their arms as the guards opened the large doors, announcing their arrival. 
The guests stood in the center of the hall, conversing animatedly, except for the king and the Hand, who were already seated. The queen approached them with a maternal smile and planted a kiss on her son's forehead. "We were waiting for you, my dearest" she said affectionately. Then, taking his hand to guide him to his seat, she turned to her. "Princess, we did not expect you. What a lovely surprise" she added with a smile.
She felt a small knot of uncertainty in her stomach, wondering if she was intruding, but Aemond wouldn't have sought her out if that were the case. She returned the queen's smile and noticed how she gestured to the servants, who quickly added a chair and tableware next to Helaena. Helaena smiled at her and, before she could greet her, moved towards that newly added chair, giving up her place directly in front of Aemond, which she appreciated. Perhaps Helaena wanted her to sit opposite her brother, or simply preferred not to be near Aegon, an understandable preference.
She sat down with a grateful smile, though still somewhat uncomfortable. The feast began, and musicians played cheerful ballads that filled the air with a festive atmosphere. Laughter and conversation flowed along the table, and she almost forgot how much she missed her family, caught up in the distraction of the moment. She noticed that the wine jug beside her needed refilling more often than others, and wondered how long it would be before Aegon spoiled the mood. He was fun and pleasant when sober, but she couldn't say the same when he was drunk.
"Princess, I heard you've been learning High Valyrian" said the king, smiling at her with somewhat weary eyes. She smiled happily at the question, and Aemond paid attention, interested in the conversation.
"Yes, your grace. Aemond has been an excellent instructor" she replied proudly.
"She is making incredible progress" Aemond added, shyly.
"I bet it comes easy to you, just like your mother" the king said, smiling before taking a sip of wine. Perhaps to an untrained eye, Aemond's slight disappointment might have gone unnoticed, but she saw it, and understood why. She couldn't blame the king for loving his daughter so much, as her mother was a splendid person, but she felt sorry that he didn't see the fortune in having Helaena and Aemond, who were just as intelligent and kind.
"With Aemond as my guide, it's only natural for me to learn quickly, your grace" she said, smiling at Aemond. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, and the king looked pleased with the response, nodding before moving on to another conversation. Aegon's raised eyebrows and mischievous smile did not go unnoticed.
Helaena was showing her a figure she always carried, a wooden butterfly that Viserys had given her when she was a baby. She wondered if maybe that was the origin of her fascination with insects. As they continued talking, she felt an unfamiliar finger tangle in one of her curls, pulling it lightly. It was Aegon, who was looking at her hair with mocking attention.
"The Arryn blood is strong, is it not, niece?" he said sarcastically, and in a low voice, ensuring the king did not hear.
She tensed at the comment, and Helaena looked at Aegon disapprovingly. Her body stiffened, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. In that moment, she inwardly cursed herself for not wearing black and for wearing her hair loose, proudly displaying her curls. Aegon simply removed his finger and engaged in another conversation, losing interest in teasing her, but she couldn't return to her previous state.
Helaena gently squeezed her hand, offering a small supportive smile, but it did little to calm her. Aemond didn't seem to hear the remark, for which she was thankful.
She felt more alone than ever, like an uninvited guest in a place she once called home. And she came to understand her siblings' anger at such insults, not to the same extent, of course, but she did.
The rest of the dinner passed without further incidents. Some guests joined in a lively dance once the meal was over, and laughter was heard in the hall as the wine continued to flow.
Aemond glanced at her several times, concerned about her obvious discomfort. She didn't want to spoil his celebration, so she tried to offer a reassuring smile whenever their eyes met.
She found herself caught up in various pleasant conversations with the other nobles present, mostly with Daeron, who was her same age, and Heleana. She tried to keep away from Aegon as much as possible. Aemond, on his part, approached her on several occasions, rescuing her from the dull talks of the elders. He tried to distract her with amusing anecdotes from his training or asked her about stories of dragons, which she knew by heart. Though her mind was elsewhere, she appreciated his efforts to make her feel comfortable and protected.
Finally, as the feast began to wind down into the night, Aemond approached her with determination in his eyes.
"Princess, would you like to take a walk through the gardens? The night is beautiful" he suggested.
She smiled, grateful for the chance to get away from the bustle. "I would love to, my prince."
Together, they left the main hall and made their way to the quiet gardens of the castle. The moon shone above them, illuminating their flowers lined path as they walked silently along. Aemond seemed less tense now, more relaxed under the starry sky, offering her his arm courteously.
"I'm sorry if anything made you uncomfortable tonight" Aemond finally said, breaking the silence. "I hope nothing else happened" he murmured, a slight concern in his eyes.
She shook her head gently, feeling comforted by his worry. "It's not your fault, Aemond. I'm fine. Just... I'm not used to being without my family."
He nodded, looking at her with understanding. "I know. And I know sometimes people can be... thoughtless" he said, almost apologizing again.
They walked a bit further in silence before she found the courage to speak about what she was really thinking. "Do you ever feel that way, Aemond?" she hesitated for a moment. "Like you don't quite fit in?"
He stopped and looked at her directly, uncertain. His eyes, under the full moon and clear sky, seemed deeper, more reflective, sadder at her question. "Sometimes," he admitted softly, "but when I'm with you, princess, everything seems to fall into place. I do hope you feel the same."
Her heart skipped at his sincere words, feeling a twinge of guilt for longing to return to her family. "Thank you, Aemond. Should we head back? It's getting chilly."
He smiled, softening his features. "Yes."
They continued walking together, enjoying the peace and serenity of the night. As they progressed, leaving the gardens behind and climbing the keep stairs, she said, "I hope you've enjoyed your day, my prince." He nodded. Once they reached the hallway they shared, she whispered: "Should I visit you tonight?"
"Of course" he replied naturally, offering a comforting smile.
"You said Aegon would bring your gift, I wouldn't want to arrive at an inopportune moment" she said, reminding him.
He nodded, realizing he had forgotten his earlier conversation with his brother. "You're right. Maybe I should come instead. I can come right after he leaves" he suggested, and she eagerly agreed to the plan.
When they finally stood in front of the door, with no one in sight, her hands began to sweat nervously. It was just a temporary farewell, like countless others before, so she didn't understand why her body felt so restless, or why her heart was pounding so hard. And why were her thoughts centered on whether kissing him would ease her mind?
Before pushing the door, she turned to him, catching Aemond’s smile, oblivious to her internal doubts. "May I, perhaps, try something?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, hoping she hadn't misinterpreted any signals.
He arched an eyebrow, curious at her question, but nodded in consent. Without further ado, she took a step forward and, with determination, closed the distance between them. She pressed her lips gently against his, all her questions melting away in that fleeting moment. She closed her eyes, unable to see Aemond's initial surprise.
When they parted, Aemond's face was flushed, his eye wide with astonishment, causing a flutter of concern in her chest. Before she could apologize, he mirrored her action, leaning in and returning the innocent kiss. This time, both closed their eyes, letting themselves be carried away by the moment as their hands instinctively intertwined.
As they pulled away, shy but content smiles graced their faces. The special discovery left them breathless.
"Goodnight" she whispered, a thrilling buzz inside her.
"Goodnight" he replied with equal softness and carrying the same exhilaration.
Once inside, the room was again in perfect order, something she was thankful for. Aemond always seemed to value the organization and she wanted him to feel like in his own space. Peaceful, comfortable, happy. Her chambers were perfectly illuminated by the moon and the glow of the fire burning in the fireplace, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.
She walked to the door she used every night, leaving it slightly ajar, then shed her dress, donning her nightgown and slipping immediately into bed. She tried to immerse herself in the book on her nightstand, but her mind kept returning to the shared kiss. Touching her lips with the tips of her fingers, she wondered if it had also been Aemond's first time. She hoped it was.
Soon she realized it was futile to try to distract herself with the book. Her heart still raced, and her mind was full of questions and anticipations. She tossed and turned in bed, unable to stay still as she waited for Aemond to arrive. She was worried, fearing she had ruined everything with her impulsiveness. Or worse, that Aemond had changed his mind after that.
Exhaustion finally overcame her, her head swirling with thoughts, and she fell asleep hoping everything would be okay between them.
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The sun stung her face as she began to wake, the warmth of the morning enveloping her. There were faint noises in the room, but still too sleepy to make them out, she tried to ignore them. Suddenly, her eyes flew wide open and she sat up abruptly. The bed was empty, but the secondary door remained open, an invitation to scolding from her lady-in-waiting.
Lyra soon noticed she was awake. With a sorrowful expression, she approached the bed slowly and sat beside her. The princess's gaze searched for answers, but none of her assumptions came close to the reality.
"A raven has arrived today from Dragonstone, my princess..." Lyra began softly, choosing her words carefully. She nodded, attentive and anxious to know more, urging her to continue. "Your father, Prince Leanor, has passed away" she announced.
With those words, the princess's entire world shattered once more in an instant. Tears began to cascade uncontrollably, unleashed without any permission, but she knew it was only a matter of time, a storm that had been brewing finally erupted. Her overwhelming feelings of longing for her family and the unsettling sense of being like a stranger in the castle where she had grown up intensified her anguish even more. Guilt and regret gnawed at her, constricting her chest and stealing the air in her lungs. Lyra tried to soothe her, urging her to breathe, but it was in vain. 
So many moons spent in the Red Keep, precious time lost with her father that could never be reclaimed. Now, with the loss irreversible, she couldn't even seek answers about how it happened, the trauma of Harwin Strong's death still raw. Her chest tightened, heaving, as her mind spun relentlessly, refusing to accept what her ears had heard.
Lyra enveloped her in protective arms, a bulwark against the whirlwind of emotions crashing over her as the harsh news unfolded before her. "We must leave immediately, there is a ship waiting for us" she murmured softly, aware of the princess's magnitude of pain, but to the urgency of the situation too.
Tears continued to flow unabated as she nodded, succumbing to the overwhelming sensation of loss and guilt that engulfed her. She allowed herself to be consumed by it while Lyra hurriedly guided and helped her dress. Once ready, servants entered to assist with the luggage, moving efficiently as those who understood the gravity of the moment, and Lyra asked her to wait while she gathered her own belongings.
When the lady disappeared from her sight, she, with a pounding heart, hurried to Aemond's room. Upon arrival, Queen Alicent was just stepping out, her face a mask of concern and sorrow.
"I'm deeply sorry for your loss, princess" she said with palpable sincerity in her voice, closing the door behind her, but condolences were a luxury she could not afford now. She needed to see if everything was okay with Aemond before leaving, the thought of departing without clarity on their relationship or at least a farewell filled her with unease.
"Is Aemond awake? I wish to see him" she implored softly, tears silently streaming down her face. People passed around her—members of the council, servants—all casting sympathetic glances that went unnoticed.
"He does not wish to receive visitors at the moment" the queen replied firmly.
"But it is urgent" she insisted, desperation seeping into her voice. She tried to move past her and grasp the door handle, her hands trembling but determined, but the queen stopped her.
"I'm very sorry, princess, but you must understand" Alicent said, her tone unyielding.
On the brink of collapse, with each passing second more overwhelming than the last, she pleaded, "please" but received only refusals.
Moments later, Lyra appeared carrying a suitcase, hurrying towards her. "My princess, we must depart now" she said, after offering a courtesy to Alicent.
"But I need to see Aemond" she insisted, her voice a desperate whisper. Lyra looked to Alicent silently pleading for a concession, searching for a shred of sympathy, but the queen remained unmoved, her gaze fixed on the princess.
"We can exchange letters by ravens, yes? But the ship will depart soon, princess" Lyra said, her words weighted by both empathy and urgency.
She felt frustration and helplessness engulf her, on the verge of shouting in rage. With no other choice, she took Lyra's hand and let herself be led away, each step a battle against the hopelessness that surrounded her.
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@helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers @callsignwidow @scarletbedlam @fics-i-love-and-recommend @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me
Last part from her POV as kids!
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sailorgundam308 · 1 year ago
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Karlach isn't a good girl
Listen, LISTEN. I love her, okay? Now that's out of the way. I see many people reducing her personality to the "big friendly labrador dog" thing. And while it's cute and all that, I disagree. Let me get into why I think Karlach isn't the goodie nice girl she puts a lot of effort to be. She has just returned to Faerun when we meet her in game, and she IS trying her bestest to start anew, to be the best version of herself now that she is free. But it doesn't mean she was always like that, or that her past has not changed her. I think it did - quite a lot, in fact.
Let's start with Gortash. She worked for this fucker. Granted, she might not have known he was such an evil bastard at the time, but she was his bodyguard. And by bodyguard, it is implied that she was his bully, his enforcer and debt collector - you know, the kind that breaks knees and kills people. When she meets an old friend in the city, that friend asks her if she is still in "the business of intimidation", and offers her to come see weapons. Even though Karlach, in her mind, might have been convincing herself that doing such a job was to help someone she respected, she still did it. And that is FINE. She was a young orphan, a tiefling in a place where tieflings are discriminated against harshly, poor and without much perspective. Of course a guy coming over offering her a well paid job that she excelled in would seem like winning a lottery. Still, she was a pretty shady violent person doing it. Now, the Hells. Avernus. She was sold to Zariel quite young still, and went through all sorts of torture and other perks enslavement gets you. For 10 years. She was scared shitless while there, especially in the beginning - she says so herself (to Halsin). All the carnage she inflicted was not (very) voluntary. She HAD to, or she would be the one getting killed. But she enjoyed it - or grew to. She likes violence, the adrenaline of it, the rush of excitement. The thrill of it, she says, is second only to sex.
Continuing on. Avernus, as well as the other layers of the Nine Hells, is not like the Material Plane. The place itself influences you. It means that being in Avernus for any time changes/corrupts/influences who you are. The longer you stay there, the deeper it gets. It did so to Zariel who was a literal angel. Avernus (and it's Archdevil's personality) insidiously get in your body and heart. It is just the way it goes, lore-wise, in DnD. If a fucking SOLAR wasn't immune to it, Karlach - young and lost - certainly wouldn't be either. Even more so because she was near Zariel all the time. I strongly believe Karlach was getting more and more exactly like Zariel - who herself is a fierce berserker warrior who charges head first into battle. Zariel is KNOWN to be this crazy strong, insane, fearless and (in her mind) righteous demon-smiting war machine. Sounds similar to a nice red tiefling we know, doesn't it? Now, did Zariel chose Karlach beause she was already like this, or did Karlach took after Zariel while she fought with her? Hard to tell. In any case, Karlach's 10 years in the Hells did change her. Needless to say, Avernus doesn't change you for the better. It doesn't mean that Karlach became "evil" - she is obviously far from it. But she is chaotic, violent and bloodthirsty. She is also selfish. There are several situations where this personality trait of her comes up.
It may sound kinda wild considering how she offers to help everyone and even sacrifice herself (since she's already dying anyway) - when we meet her. But that's the thing: she is being as selfless as she can now because she has been very selfish for a very long time (proof she has a conscience). Perhaps, she is terrified of what she was becoming and is trying to make amends, to revert whatever evil was growing in her.
She mentions herself that she did not help the tieflings of Elturel when their city was pulled down into Avernus. She did not get out of her way to help them. Instead, she thought that if "she was living that nightmare, they'd have to live it too". She would not put her neck on the line to help another - which, not so coincidentally, is typical behavior in the Hells (again, proof that Avernus was indeed getting to her). The Hag's Vicious Mockery targeted specifically at Karlach mentions how she is willing to "sell everyone's soul's if it means she can save hers". We do not know exactly what it refers to - soul coins, throwing others under the bus, ignoring people in need - but it reinforces the idea that Karlach was not the nicest person for at least 12+ years. Granted, the devils around her were much worse - but they are DEVILS in HELL. So.
Generally, in game we notice that her effort to survive and stay alive has pushed her selfishness to grow. But it still is selfishness. Another example is how she disapproves (together with Astarion), if you say to healer Nettie that you "swear to drink the Wyvern poison". She wouldn't drink it. She'd rather kill Nettie (that gets hostile).
Another hint at her grey-ish personality is when she talks to/about Wyll after he is punished by Mizora for not having killed Karlach. She mentions that she would NOT have done the same in his place. That he was better than her. Again, she would not put her skin on the line like that. She would and has turned a blind eye to situations and persons if it meant it would guarantee her survival or avoid injury. (Mind you, I 100% belive she would do this sacrifice if she was in love with someone, though.)
She will ask to, and will use Soul Coins even though she knows it's morally a sus choice to do so. If you play as her she will repeat to herself "I won't use them, they are people's souls - and I am GOOD." like she is trying to convince herself. Because she would fucking use them to smash some big fuckers in a blink - and feel awesome while doing it. Even as her, she keeps insisting "But... maybe I can use them... JUST when I really need them." Additionally, when she talks to the bugbear merchant in Moonrise Towers and he offers her soul coins, she doesn't really feel guilty for the stories of the souls in them. She even says at some point "they are already doomed, so why not use them anyway", justifying that she will only kill evil bastards with them. In any case, the morality of her choice is debatable. It makes clear that Karlach is not "lawful good" by any stretch.
Let me reiterate that just because I am saying all this about Karlach, doesn't mean I dislike her. I think she is abso-fucking-lutely the best character in the game. But I hate to see her personality "flattened" to nice happy go lucky gal. I think she has a grey-tinged personality - she has good and bad aspects to herself; she has character flaws too.
But I also think that she is trying her damn hardest to be the best she can be right then. The opposite of what she's been. Maybe it is because she has so little time left, that she needs to be the absolute best version of herself while she can. Perhaps she is trying to be what she would have been if her parents did not die - because they seemed like great loving parents. And I think Karlach didn't turn into a broken evil maniac because of them, the way they raised her while they were alive. But she lost her mom at 6, her father around 13-15. After that, it was struggling on the streets, Gortash and Zariel - betrayal, violence, carnage, war and loneliness. It is too naive to think a person would not change after all this, that Karlach would not carry more scars than those she shows on her body. To her credit, she turned much MUCH better than anyone would have. She WILL kill with a grin on her face, seek violence, blood and even revel in it - she learned to relish it and now it's part of who she is. She is selfish, she will look out for herself and has no qualms about killing or throwing people she doesn't care for under the bus (if she sees justification for it). BUT she knows what evil is, and doesn't let shit happen to people who don't deserve it. She will side with those who suffer prejudice and fight against what she sees as injustice - but even she has a limit to how far she'd go.
If you raid the Emerald Grove, she will leave the party. To me, this screams of her trying to right her past wrongs. She left the Elturians to their fate once before, so she MUST save them now that she has another chance - and that it won't cost her her life. I love her being 1/3 brutal killing machine (and fucking LOVING it), 1/3 ptsd, fear and overcompensating trauma under a smile, and 1/3 just trying her best, really, and being lovely for it. Phew. That was a long rant. I guess I just wanted to organize my thoughts about it a bit :V
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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago
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can i please request one where it’s azriel x reader. Feyre sees azriel wearing a ring on his left finger and asks,
” i’ve seen you wear that ring forever azriel, what does it mean? ”
” it’s my wedding ring ”
and her jaw drops bc she didn’t know he even had a lover.
” who is she? do i know her? what is she like? ”
he smiles faintly and says:
” her name is y/n and she isn’t a warrior like us, she works at a library downtown. you don’t know her, only rhys and cassian do. we have a house in the outskirts in velaris. she is very sweet and i love her more than anything, our daughter is- ”
” YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER ????? ”
he nods and tells them all about her, he asks if feyre wants to meet reader snd their daughter and feyre smiles and nods. He asks you in the mating bond if it’s okay to bring her, rhys and cassian to dinner. reader says yes and azriel tells her he’ll pick them all up tonight. You meet feyre and become friends instantly, nyx and their daughter become friends aswell.
” how did i not know this, i feel bamboozled ” feyre asks rhysand
” don’t worry i didn’t know for s long time either, Az is a very private person, he’s still a mystery sometimes, and i’ve known him for over 500 years” rhys says and laughs knowing your perfect for his brother 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️😭🥹😍
I’m Married
Azriel x reader
A/n: Az would casually drop “I’m married”
Warnings: none
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Azriel rips his leather gloves off, dropping them on the kitchen island. The leather making a smacking sound against the marble. He laid his palms flat on the cool surface. Looking down, he smiled at the simple silver band on his ring finger with your name and the date of your wedding engraved on the inside.
His smile widened knowing that you were waiting for him to come home. All he had to do was fill out one more report for Rhys and then he could hold you in his arms.
Feyre walked into the kitchen humming a light tune, breaking Azriel away from his daydream of you. “Hi Azriel,” she said in that sweet caring tone. She walked passed him, lightly patting his shoulder. Azriel covered her hand with his ring clad one.
She grabbed Azriel’s hand to inspect his ring. “I’ve never really seen you wear jewelry but you always wear this. What is it?” A curious smile pulling at her lips. “Oh, it’s my wedding ring.” Feyre’s face falls into shock.
“What?” Azriel looks at her unsure what to say. “Erm,” “What!? You’re married! Since when? Who is she? Do I know her? Can I meet her?”
Azriel smiles at his over excited friend. Holding Feyre’s shoulders Azriel let’s out a small laugh. “I will tell you all about her if you want.” She nods rapidly and takes a seat at the island. Resting her chin in her hand Feyre looks up at Azriel excitedly.
“Her name is y/n. She isn’t like us, she’s more calm and…well I don’t know exactly how to describe it. She’s just perfect. We live just outside the city. I built the house but it was her vision. Our five year old daughter-“
“You have daughter! Azriel how are you keeping this from us?” The Shadowsinger shrugs, “I’m not keeping this from all of you. Only Cass and Rhys know.”
“Ok,” she says exasperated, “I want to meet them. Please stay for dinner tonight and bring y/n and your daughter. If that’s ok with her.” She quickly adds. Not wanting Azriel to feel bullied into sharing you. “I will ask.” Feyre squeals with excitement jumping from her seat to embrace Azriel.
Closing his office door he let out a nervous sigh. Azriel knew you’d say yes. But he was just so used to keeping you to himself, he was t ready to share you with his friends. Yes you have your own friends but this is completely different.
He knew this day would come though. After a hundred years it was inevitable. Plus it would be wrong to keep his little Malin from her cousin.
You could sense Azriel’s indecisiveness down the bond. Sending love down the bond made him feel lighter and better about asking you to the River House for dinner. “I can’t wait to see you my love.” Your soothing tone sounded through the bond.
Relaxing into his leather chair Azriel smiled to himself again. “I miss you. So much baby.” Azriel pauses before asking you. “How would you feel about coming to the River House for a small dinner tonight? And brining Malin too.” “I would love to! Do I finally get to meet Feyre?”
Your excitement calmed his nerves. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
Rhys watched with amusement as Feyre rushed around the dinning room straightening out the napkins and plates. “Everything has to be perfect!” She said. “Darling, y/n is going to love you. It’s ok if one napkin corner is slightly crooked she won’t think less of you.”
She stopped, dropping her head as she gripped the back of one of the chairs at the table. Probably trying to get it as straight as possible too. “I know, I know. I just want her to be comfortable here.” Rhys walked over to her and pulled his mate into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “You’re so sweet darling.”
A knock and the front door opening had the pair breaking apart as Feyre rushed to foyer. Azriel had his back turned. Feyre cleared her throat and Azriel faced her and Rhys. Revealing a beautiful female holding a child on her waist.
You smiled at Feyre as you placed Malin on the ground. “It’s so nice to finally meet you Feyre. Everything you’ve done…thank you.” The two of you quickly walked to meet in the middle and embrace. “I’m so happy to finally meet you too y/n.”
Letting go Feyre crouches down to Malin’s height. “And you must be Malin. It’s so nice to meet you.” Malin curtsies. “It’s lovely to meet you High Lady Feyre.” She giggled and lightly pinched Malin’s cheek.
Azriel crouched down next to his daughter. “Mal, Feyre is your aunt. She’s married to uncle Rhys remember?” She nods her little head.
Nyx came running into the room followed by Cassian. “Nyx I want you to meet someone.” Rhys held out his hand to his son. Nyx took it as he looked around curiously as he stops in front of Malin. “Hi. We’re cousins.” She says excitedly.
The little boys eyes go wide and his eyes find her wings. “You have wings too! Wanna see my toys?” She nods and the pair run off. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips, your hand coming to rest on your barley there bump. You were four months along now with your and Az’s second child.
“Let’s go to the sitting room. Can I get you a drink?” Feyre links her arm with yours. “Water would be wonderful.” Sitting on a love seat next to Azriel Cassian comes over planting a kiss on your head and ruffling your hair. “It’s good to see you kid.” “You too Cass.”
“And how’s little Cassian?” You roll your eyes at him. “Cassian. We talked about this I’m not naming my child after you.”
As you banter back and forth with Cassian and Azriel, Feyre taps on Rhys’s mental shields. “Why did Az keep y/n a secret? Why don’t all of you know about her?” Rhys gave her a sympathetic frown from his seat across the room. She sounded dejected by the lack of trust between her and the Shadowsinger.
“Azriel keeps them secret to keep them safe. He has the most dangerous job out of all of us and Mother forbid an enemy found them. He would be distraught. He has many secrets my darling. Not even I know them all and it’s been over 500 years.”
Feyre sighs, holding your glass of water. She was happy for Azriel though. You clearly made him very happy. And the way he looks at Malin…gods that how her and Rhys look at Nyx. Azriel leans over to kiss your cheek and Feyre swears she had never seen him so relaxed and boyish.
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months ago
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Under Cotton and Calicoes
Pairing: Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x f!reader Warnings: Orgasm control, outdoor sex, smut. Word count: ~1.6k
Summary: In the space between darkness and light, her and Osferth discover the freedom to be exactly as they are.
Author's note: Day eight of the Smuffmas prompts - "sunrise and orgasm control". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
She climbs the grassy embankment, picking each step carefully in the darkness. The dew drops that cover the soft surface dampen the bottom of her skirt, but she finds the coolness of it against her bare ankles refreshing.
This is her favourite time of day, the hours that linger between darkness and light, when the sky hovers over the horizon with muted hues of blush pink and lilac. She often finds herself in this spot, looking out over Wintanceaster as it still sleeps, her mind flooded with all she had hoped for when she had first arrived here, and all that this place has stolen away from her since.
When she had left her father’s small farmstead she had been in search of freedom, an escape from the mundane. Wintanceaster had seemed lively and exciting, full of opportunity, though she swiftly learned that this only applies if you are a man.
She had taken a job at the alehouse to begin with. She is not quite sure how she ended up in the employment of the local brothel, a temporary arrangement for additional coin that had somehow become permanent. She cannot deny that the money she stashes away now is a larger sum than what she had earned serving flagons of ale and bowls of stew, however, with every man that molds their flesh to hers she cannot help but feel she has simply escaped one entrapment to fall into another; the scenery has changed, yet the shackles remain the same. Once the money beneath her pillow reaches a sufficient quantity, she will leave this place. For now, she is resigned to looking upon it in the cold light of dawn.
In the empty space she occupies in the twilight hours, she is not the daughter of a farmer, she is not a whore, she is simply her, free to think on her dreams as the sky lightens and the day begins anew.
Her head turns, the rustle of footsteps alerting her to a presence beside her.
“Forgive me, my lady, I did not mean to startle you. I thought I was alone.”
She recognises him. A holy man that has accompanied the warriors that travelled here a few days prior. Though his piety is not without question, when she considers the two visits he has made to her place of employment since arriving here. The two women he had laid with had fought viciously over him.
“Hmm,” she smiles softly, “I thought I was alone too.”
He swallows thickly, blue eyes averting their gaze as he clasps his hands behind his back. “If you’d prefer to be alone, I can always–”
Ordinarily, she would balk at the idea of being alone in the darkness with a strange man, but she feels perfectly safe in the gentle presence of this one. He means her no harm.
“Stay,” she interjects, “there is room enough for two. You are Osferth?”
He nods and enquires after her name, bowing slightly as she tells him. The formality of the gesture almost makes her want to laugh.
“I see that sleep evades you too, my lady,” he says, moving to stand beside her, cocking his head as he glances sideways at her.
“It often does,” she sighs, looking out at the horizon. “But I prefer this time of day. It is freeing to not feel obligated, to simply–”
“Be yourself?” He finishes for her, with a raise of his eyebrow.
“So you understand. Is that why you do not sleep either?”
“I understand more than I’d care to admit,” he tells her, scraping his boot against the ground, an obvious gesture of discomfort.
“But you travel in the company of Uhtred of Bebbanburg, what could you possibly have to escape from? Heroism?”
She chuckles drily, causing him to frown as he bows his head, pursing his lips tightly.
“I am a bastard,” he states simply.
“No shame in being a bastard,” she says with a shrug.
“So I am told, but I am nothing more until I prove otherwise. King Alfred’s bastard, the baby monk, I have to fight every day to be seen as more. All I want to be is…Osferth. Simply Osferth.”
She softens, turning towards him, eyes half lidded in sympathetic understanding. “I doubt it provides any comfort, but to me you are simply Osferth.”
“It provides more comfort than you could possibly understand, my lady,” he admits quietly, large eyes staring into hers.
She studies his features silently, the sharp jut of his jaw, his high cheekbones, the straightness of his nose. He is beautiful when the time is taken to really study him, and without thinking her hand reaches up, fingers tracing the outline of his features.
He steps back quickly, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “I have no silver to pay you.”
Her hand drops back to her side as she feels her skin grow hot with embarrassment. “How silly of me to think you could actually understand,” she says bitterly, looking away.
“I did not mean to offend you,” he tells her, his tone pleading as he steps towards her once more.
She shakes her head. “You have not. It is foolish of me to think I could ever be seen as anything more than a whore.”
Osferth’s brow furrows, and he grasps her hand in his. The touch of his flesh against hers feels as though she has been branded, yet she does not jerk away.
“You are so much more.”
“You do not know me.”
“I would like to.”
She looks up at him, taken aback by how impossibly close he is to her, his breath fans across her face as his gaze locks with hers.
“Why?” She whispers.
“There is a reason I did not choose you over those other women,” he says earnestly. “You are beautiful, my lady, worth more than any payment I could possibly give.”
“Then I shall not accept your payment,” she breathes, leaning up to press her lips to his.
He responds in kind, leaning down, and the hand not holding hers reaches up to cup her cheek, his large palm enveloping her skin in its warmth. His lips are soft, yet his kiss is firm and tender. She savours the intimacy of it, sighing softly as her body relaxes against his.
“Are you sure you wish to do this?” He utters, as they reluctantly draw back, foreheads pressed together.
Her pulse races, her core throbbing with need, surrounded by his earthy scent and the heat that radiates off of him. She has never been more certain of anything in her life.
She captures his lips with hers once more in silent answer, and his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her tighter against him.
As they drop to their knees, she pushes him back by the shoulder, shifting to straddle him. Their hands are almost frenzied, their breaths coming in hurried puffs, in their rush to push up her skirt and his robe, before he tugs down his trousers and breeches enough to free himself.
It is only then that they slow the pace. His head falls back against the damp grass as she takes him in her hand, a quiet groan escaping him as she rubs the tip of his hardened cock through her rapidly gathering slick. Sliding herself against it, she repeats the motion, back and forth, preparing herself to take him inside.
His hands disappear beneath her dress, fingers indenting into her hips as he whimpers quietly. “Please, my lady, I will not last if you keep this up.”
She giggles, raising up to guide him to her opening. “Patience, sweet Osferth.”
They both sigh in relief as she sinks down upon him, the length of him stretching her in a way that guides the head of him to brush against a patch inside of her that steals her breath away.
The pace she sets is unhurried, slowly rocking herself atop him, revelling in the exquisite torture of having him touch upon that particular place over and over. If ever she were to experience what it is to be worshipped then this surely must be it. His hold on her hips is almost bruising, made all the more divine when juxtaposed with the reverence of his gaze as he looks up at her, brows pinched together and jaw slack.
She moans, head tipping back as she allows her movements to become faster and more determined. In her peripheral vision she sees the first golden rays of morning breaching the inky blackness of the sky.
Osferth pulsates inside of her, his breathing now reduced to ragged pants. “Oh, please, I’m going to–”
“Not yet,” she whispers, slowing her pace, working her way towards the pinnacle of the ever tightening knot in her gut. “With me.”
His fingertips press tighter into the meat of her, his eyes screwing shut. She brings herself down upon him once, twice, three times more, chasing the sensation that’s about to crest over her, until she finally lets go, closing her eyes and tightening around him with a pleasured cry.
He grunts, bucking upwards, holding her against him as she feels him twitch, spilling himself inside of her. As she catches her breath, eyes blinking open, the dull orange of the sun has chased away the darkness almost entirely, its faint hues slowly lightening the surrounding fields and expanse of the town below them. 
For once, she exists exactly as she is outside the cover of twilight hours, and it gives her hope.
Osferth pulls himself to sit up, keeping himself buried inside of her as she remains in his lap, and they wrap their arms around each other.
“When I return, I will find you,” he whispers.
“Perhaps by then I will finally be free to live as I please.”
“I would like that for both of us,” he replies.
But for now, they will always have this moment, kept immortal in the quiet of dawn.
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rivatar · 8 months ago
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Quick Sex
Day 3 of Pandora’s Bloody Moon
Pairing: Dilf!Jake!Sully x fem!omatikaya!reader
W/c: 970
Warnings/content: MDNI, smut & quick sex obvi, p in v, cream pie, secret sex
A/n: I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🤭🤭
“Hey guys, can I borrow Y/N for a second?” Jake steps in out of no where and holds his hand out for you since you were sat on the ground criss cross. You were in a circle with a group of friends your age, you all were tasked with carving out arrows for the warriors.
“Of course, Ma’Olo’eyktan. We don’t mind picking up her slack,” one of the young men joked nicely and everyone giggled. But truthfully, no one tells the Olo’eyktan ‘no’ so although they didn’t know why he was taking you, no one asked questions or dared to object.
“She won’t be gone long! And don’t worry, she’s not in trouble,” Jake joked playfully in response. After helping you off the ground he placed his hand on your back, ushering you away with him.
You both didn’t say a word as you were walking, still seeing a few Na’vi here and there but working your way out of the busy village and into the dense forest. The tension was thick in the air though, both of you wanting to speak to the other but not wanting to raise any suspicions amongst the villagers.
Jake looked around, checking and making sure no one was watching as you slipped into the forest further and further until eventually none of them could be seen or heard. You stayed silent, waiting for Jake to deem it safe and following his lead. He finally cornered you against a tree.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” he growled desperately and grabbed your face to kiss you hungrily. “Been thinking about this sweet pussy all day, couldn’t wait a second longer” he murmured on your mouth between kisses.
You and Jake have been sneaking off for about 3 months now. The first time, you both agreed it was a mistake and it would never happen again. But after getting a taste of each other, it was too hard to stop and never have it again. So this has become a routine for you guys. Sneaking off and fucking like animals while keeping it a secret from everyone else.
You kissed him back fervently, missing him just as badly.
You pulled back just enough to talk. “I can’t be gone too long or my friends will get suspicious, Jake” you reasoned with him while you clung onto each other desperately, panting and excited like you were both horny little teenagers again.
“I know, I know, let’s make it quick, then I’ll let ya go back, ‘mkay?”
You nodded enthusiastically, trusting him and also not wanting to wait any longer.
Your lips crashed onto each others again. While sloppily making out, you both hastily untied your loincloths, speeding up the process to get to what you really wanted.
Discarding the item to the ground, his lips left yours and he quickly hooked his hands under the back of your thighs to hoist you up against the tree. He swiftly positioned his hard cock against your entrance, wasting no time on foreplay. It was okay though because you were already soaked.
He slipped in with ease and groaned, his hands were holding your ass and lowering you down on his length until you fully engulfed him.
“Shit—you been thinking about this too, huh? Wet as fuck,” He gritted out
“Yes Jake, please give it to me!” You whined desperately.
“Your wish is my command,” he grinned with lust in his eyes.
He immediately set a hard and fast pace. You couldn’t get enough of each other, and each time you had a fuck session you just wanted more, harder, faster.
“Oh fuck! Jakeee!” You cried out to him, tossing your head back as he rutted into you like there was no tomorrow. Your tits bounced to his rhythm and your ass smacked his pelvis so hard it almost hurt.
He swiftly moved one hand to cover over your mouth. “Quiet, girl. Fuck- you trying to let everyone know?”
He kept bouncing you up and down on his dick and you moaned on his hand, making a ‘mmm’ sound and not holding yourself back. A tear fell down your cheek and your eyes rolled back at how good he was fucking the shit out of you.
“Come on baby, cum for me so I can fill you up,” he panted in your ear making it twitch from his hot breath.
The coil in the bottom of your belly was tightening more and more and you knew you would only have a few more seconds of heaven. He removed his hand from covering your mouth.
“Gonna cummm,” you whined.
“C’mon babe, cum on my cock,” he grunted and pleaded because he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold his own orgasm back much longer.
The coil suddenly snapped and you released on him, coating his dick in your thick cum gushing out.
He covered your mouth again as you screamed out in pleasure.
“Atta girl, just like that,” he praised and his own release followed, filling you up to the brim as his cock twitched inside you.
You both recovered, heavily breathing as your hearts calmed down.
“You are really something, you know that?” He asked you while still holding you up against the tree, sweat beading down his wrinkled forehead.
“Mhmm,” you smiled deliriously. You were too far gone to think at the moment.
He slowly pulled out and lowered you to the ground. He hurriedly did his best to clean you both off with some leaves, it would have to work for the time being.
He motioned for you to come on and you did so.
“Get back to work,” he winked and smacked your ass playfully as the two of you parted ways so no one would notice you were together. You just smiled cheekily and rolled your eyes.
Taglist: @teyamshuman @hidden-snow @ikeyniofthetayrangi @bambithewriter @neteyamssyulang @professional-yapper @nonamevenus
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fallenclan · 2 months ago
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War with ShallowClan? Feels more like theres an internal war about to break out!! Raven’s public violence has been “excusable” so far but cold blooded murder of a cat who’s never not been loyal for roughly 8 years??? I can’t see how this could be seen as a fair punishment for Snap’s refusal to forget their past omg omg I’m so scared and excited to see where this goes!
So! Here's the thing.
(I'm gonna use this ask as a stepping stone to explain the clan's thoughts on all this)
Way back in moon 196, Ravenstar had just been given the name Ravenshade, becoming a warrior not one but TWO moons ahead of schedule, due to how talented and hard-working he was. The clan loved him--he was their newest little prodigy, charming and quick-witted, and pretty much everybody expected him to be a fantastic warrior when he grew up.
Then, that very same moon, Feathersight recieved an omen while he was out gathering herbs--a pawful of shiny raven feathers falling from the sky. Could it have been a natural phenomenon? Sure. But he knew instinctively (as anyone that close to Starclan does) that it was an omen, and though he couldn't parse the meaning of it, he, like most cats, assumed it had something to do with the freshly-named Ravenshade, and brought the message to Cherrystar. News traveled fast about the omen--naturally, it was assumed to be Starclan telling them "hey everyone! see this kid? he's going to be something special!"
Fast forward. Poppyfeather and Ravenshade go out on patrol, and only Ravenshade returns, with remorse written on every bit of his face. He tells everyone how hard he tried to save her, how he wasn't enough. He sits at her vigil alongside everyone else, head bowed and ears back. It's then that Flamefall, Ravenshade's friend and his old apprentice, shyly approaches Cherrystar to remind her of that omen. "Of course!" everyone thinks. "He's not just going to be a great warrior, he's going to be a great deputy! Maybe even a great leader!" And so Cherrystar appoints him as her newest second in command.
Ravenshade serves the clan well as deputy. He's smart, skilled, and good with the apprentices, who think that he's the coolest cat to ever grace Fallenclan with his presence. He remains deputy for many moons until one fateful day, when he goes to visit her in her den and she's dead on the floor. It's a tragedy, but still, the clan celebrates. Not just for Cherrystar's life, but for Ravenshade--now Ravenstar--'s leadership! He truely will be a fantastic leader, if he was chosen by Starclan.
And he is! He's a bit harsh, maybe, but he keeps a tight ship, and the clan has never had so much prey, or had so little trouble keeping rogues and other clan's cats off of Fallenclan territory.
And then... he kills Sandsnap.
Yes, it's... harsh. To put it lightly. But Sandsnap had said, in front of the whole clan, that he still considered himself a part of another clan!Such a thing just couldn't happen. It was unheard of, disloyal, and maybe Ravenstar was right to enact such a punishment. In fact, he almost certainly was! If he was Starclan's chosen one, that meant that everything he did was just an extension of Starclan's will.
Right?
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gloryy-vs · 2 years ago
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i’m so glad that you’re taking requests bcause your writing is scrumptious 😮‍💨🫶 i love it! ik you’ll do this request more than justice.
if it’s alright with you, could you do some neteyam x omatikaya!reader? basically, they’ve been friends ever since they were little kids. they would always hold hands, hug each other, and would sometimes even kiss each other’s cheek and it was all innocent. but ever since neteyam successfully finished iknimaya and y/n gave him a celebratory kiss on the cheek, he starts seeing her differently. he starts to avoid her bcause he feels different about her, and he doesn’t know how to explain it. y/n thinks that the reason he ignores her is bcause he’s busy with his duties as the future olo’eyktan so she tries her best to not mind it. neteyam sees that y/n is doing ‘fine’ without his company and it drives him crazy. one day it gets too much after seeing y/n almost spend the entire day with tarsem and not even spare a glance at neteyam, so he confronts her and she hugs instinctively since it used to always calm him down, and that’s when he confesses 💗 whether you write this or not, i’m still excited to see more of your content argh, lots of love xoxo
|| AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH. Literally wrote one drabble and y’all makin me kick my feet n shii 🤭 I GOTCHU. not proof read so please spare me!
characters: neteyam x omatikaya!reader
rating: SFW , angsty , fluff , jealous neteyam , oblivious reader
||
During his ceremony you couldn’t help but smile cheesily, so proud of your dearest friend for coming and training so hard for this long. Especially with how his father can be, very demanding but in a loving way. Ever since you were two were young, he was always amazing at hunting, combat and being a brave warrior. Now he’s really made it. As the ceremony wrapped up, the Na’vi circling around Neteyam chanted, welcoming their upcoming Olo’eyktan. The easier way to describe a ceremony like this was a ‘coming of age’ event. There you were, by his side with your tail swishing in joy.
He stepped down, bowing his head in respect to the people around him, making his way to you. You beat him to it, basically punching in his arms as he picked you up, his arm muscles tensing and becoming more visible.
“You did it Teyam! I’m proud of you.” You said, giving his a big kiss on the cheek as a congrats. Pulling back, you gave him a big smile, your eye creasing towards the ends from how exicted you were. At first glance you couldn’t tell who’s ceremony it was from how happy you both were.
Then there was a cold shift, Neteyam gently unwrapped his arms from around your waist and let you feet touch the ground. He looked you in the eye, before getting lost in them, and lost in the feeling washing over him. His face contorted, like he was confused. Looking at you again with those big amber eyes, he smiled curtly. “Thank you, but I expect my dad to really push me. Til I break basically.” He said, playing the end off as a joke.
Covering your mouth while you giggled, your sentence was interrupted before it even started, by Jake and Neytiri waving their son over to speak with a desperate group. Neteyam turned to you and sighed, bowing his head down in annoyance. You understood though. Or at least you thought you did as he walked away without saying anything. Your ears flattened for a brief moment before you realized it may have been due to his new upcoming responsibility.
..
Days turned into weeks and Neteyam hasn’t said a word to you. That was an exaggeration. Few words were exchanged but you two haven’t had a good conversation in a while. Ever since that ceremony, he’s always been around his father, or training with some of the clans strongest warriors. That’s what you thought. You sat atop a tree, lost in your confusing thoughts. Lying is easy, but lying to yourself is the hardest. You cant convince yourself that it doesn’t hurt, you definitely have strong feelings for Neteyam, and wish to support him. Being alone is taking a toll on you especially since you two grew up attached to the hip. You didn’t want to get in his way, it would be better to distract yourself.
Making your way back to the clans new home, Tarsem waved you over graciously. He was a strong hunter and warrior, a very loyal one at that. “Ay, we brought in fresh meat from a hunt today, come and eat before it is gone.” He said with a thick accent, basically pulling you over to the rationed food. You were pretty hungry, so you crouched down, finding a spot for yourself in the circle. Tarsem crouched beside you. He grabbed a thick, hearty leaf and placed sturmbeest meat atop of it along with some other delicacies. He handed it over to you with a nod.
“Eat, eat. You must eat to be strong.” He said encouragingly, gripping your shoulders innocently and grabbing a share for himself. You two began to engage in conversation, eating while doing so. What you failed to notice was a pair of eyes staring right into your soul. He was angry, but more so with himself. Neteyam knew he was avoiding you due to his feelings. How would he confess? You two grew up together, giving each other kisses yet that one kiss after the ceremony made his heart ache for you. It wasnt fair to you, and now for him to be jealous. He scowled, stuffing his face with the last of the hunted meal and tossing the leaf to the ground in front of him. Neytiri glanced down at her son, following where his eyes were trained on. She knew very well about the connection you two had, and often spoke to Jake about it. It was a connection blessed by Eywa.
Neytiri nudged her son, catching his attention before nudging him towards you nonchalantly. Neteyam sighed, rubbing his face in his hands anxiously before standing up. He cracked his knuckles, a nervous tic of his. He walked around the circle making his way behind you, seeing your shoulders shake from innocent laughter in the conversation before he gently touched your shoulder. You whipped your head around, wiping your mouth before making eye contact. “Teyam? What is it?” Tarsem turned away, not minding the interruption.
“Come with me. I…need to talk to you.” He said. You found it off that he just now wished to speak to you, was he finally pushing you away? Telling you that the friendship was over? Getting up, you followed your best friend outside and as he turned around, he wrapped his arms tightly around you. “You won’t even look at me? What was that about? We grow up together, yet you can’t-.” You stopped him, pulling your bodies close together. Neteyam stopped, his breathing slowing down again. He didn’t even realize he got so upset. Though he realized it was a bit hypocritical. “I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s not your fault. I cant even be mad. My feelings for you grew to be more than I thought they could be…”
Your tail represented how happy you really were, swaying around quickly. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and you spoke timidly, “I thought you were mad at me, or just busy with training.” He immediately let go, grabbing your shoulders but keeping you close to his face. “I could never be mad at you. Ever since that kiss at the ceremony, I just felt differently about you. You were the biggest supporter I had, more than a best friend. It all hit me at once.” He said, his eyes baring into yours.
You cupped his face. “What are you trying to say? Tell me it’s what I think it is..” You said while looking at his lips, then meeting his eyes. He repeated the action, noticing how close you two have gotten in a matter of minutes. Neteyam closed the space, pressing his soft lips against yours and refusing to break away until he needed a breath.
You slipped away first, “Tell me Teyam..” You whispered, giving him another kiss and smiling into it.
“I’m saying I love you. Oel ngati kameie..” He said, brushing the hair from your face gently. A smile spread across your face.
“I see you, Neteyam.” You uttered the words, caressing his face before you two shared another kiss.
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theemissuniverse · 1 year ago
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MORTAL KOMBAT 1 FLIRTY/SUGGESTIVE INTROS WITH OC
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A/N : This is my OC Mal who is the daughter of Quan Chi. I’m going to be making an MK fic soon with this OC but will start all the way at MK 9. Tell me what y’all think of her
MATURE : MINORS DON’T INTERACT
Mal is the daughter of Quan Chi. Mal is witty, sarcastic, and unpredictable. Even though she has left her father to join the Earthrealm warriors, she still has an evil sadistic nature. She is a Cambion which is a half human and half demon. She is also a very powerful sorcerer. (Mal is a female and goes by she/her pronouns. Mal is also bisexual)
This is for MK 1
CHARACTERS
Liu Kang, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Mileena, Kitana
MAL VS CHARACTERS
LIU KANG VS MAL
MAL : Have I told you how undeniably hot you are?
LIU KANG : You only tell me 50 times a day
MAL : Keep it real. Have we fucked in other timelines?
LIU KANG : What makes you want to know?
MAL : I’ve always wondered what it would be like to “do it” with a God.
LIU KANG : You’ve always wondered what it would be like to “do it” with me
LIU KANG : I don’t wish to hurt you
MAL : Oh baby, you’ll be the one on the ground “hurt”
LIU KANG : Kung Lao seems to peak an interest in you
MAL : You’re so hot when you’re jealous
MAL : I never thought a God would be interested in me
LIU KANG : I would tell you, you should think of yourself more highly but your ego knows no bounds
MAL : If I can pull a God - I can pull anyone
LIU KANG : To be fair - in other timelines I was also in love with you
LIU KANG : I wish to treat you like a goddess
MAL : Oh my lord - I think I’m turned on right now
LIU KANG : Are you ready for your training?
MAL : If it ends up with you being on top of me then yes
MAL : You don’t have to be so gentle with me. I like it rough
LIU KANG : I’m well aware
RAIDEN VS MAL
MAL : Aww. Do I make you nervous Raiden?
RAIDEN : A woman with your beauty can make anybody nervous
MAL : God you are so fucking hot
RAIDEN : I sometimes don’t know how to handle your straightforwardness
RAIDEN : I did not picture our first date like this
MAL : Don’t wanna wrestle me to the ground?
MAL : I’m sensing you’re a bottom
RAIDEN : I’m sensing myself becoming embarrassed
MAL : Kung Lao said you have a crush on me
RAIDEN : I - um…don’t know what he’s talking about
MAL : I see someone’s excited to see me
RAIDEN : Why can’t my body ever shut up when it’s around you?
MAL : You know I can read your thoughts right? You’re much dirtier than I thought
RAIDEN : If you could erase the embarrassment out of me - that would be great
RAIDEN : When Johnny told me to “make my move” I did not think it would result in Kombat
MAL : Oh honey, fighting you is just going to turn me on
RAIDEN : You really like me?
MAL : I can show you how much I really like you
MAL : You know the walls are paper thin. I can hear you having…fun with yourself. Did you think about me while you did it?
RAIDEN : By the Elder Gods - I hate myself
JOHNNY CAGE VS MAL
MAL : I don’t know why people compare me to you
JOHNNY CAGE : Because we are two sexy people
JOHNNY CAGE : *flirty* Hello, Mal
MAL : Not happening, baby
JOHNNY CAGE : So, Mileena or Kitana?
MAL : How bout you?
MAL : Your ex-wife was a fool to leave you
JOHNNY CAGE : I’m looking at my new one right in front of me
JOHNNY CAGE : What’s Kung Lao got that I haven’t got?
MAL : Nothing. You’re just fun to mess with
JOHNNY CAGE : You, me, tonight. 9’oclock
MAL : I’m so used to be the one flirting that, that just caught me off guard
MAL : You’re no fun. You’re too easy
JOHNNY CAGE : Why would I deny the hottest girl of the Netherrealm at a chance of me?
MAL : If you lose - you have to go down on me
JOHNNY : Honey, that is a win for me
MAL : Kitana already cannot stand the two of us - let alone for us to ask for a threesome
JOHNNY CAGE : Worth a shot
JOHNNY CAGE : I feel like you put me under your spell
MAL : Your ego is big if you believe you are worthy for that kind of magic
KUNG LAO VS MAL
MAL : I can sense you’re a top
KUNG LAO : Instead of sensing, I can just show you
MAL : You think you can handle a woman like me?
KUNG LAO : I know I can
KUNG LAO : How long do we have to keep this a secret?
MAL : Until I know you’re worthy of being with me
KUNG LAO : Don’t go easy on me
MAL : Me? Easy? Are we talking about me?
KUNG LAO : Raiden is my friend but he cannot handle a woman like you
MAL : So show me how to handle me
KUNG LAO : Anybody but Johnny! Please!
MAL : You’re so cute when you’re jealous
MAL : I will suck the soul out of you
KUNG LAO : *laughs* Of course
MAL : I think you should’ve been the chosen one
KUNG LAO : Smart and beautiful. What more could I ask?
KUNG LAO : Didn’t know I’d meet someone as cocky as me
MAL : Think you met your match?
KUNG LAO : Last night was - amazing
MAL : Oh baby, I know it was
MILEENA VS MAL
MAL : You don’t need keys to drive me crazy
MILEENA : Ugh. I don’t know who flirts worse. You or Cage
MAL : You and Tanya make me want to vomit
MILEENA : Jealous, sorcerer?
MAL : Come on, you know you like me
MILEENA : You tell anyone and I will slaughter you
MILEENA : You could get infected with the Tarkat
MAL : That is a risk I’m willing to take
MILEENA : Kitana has been asking about you
MAL : I’m more into Empresses than Princesses
MILEENA : You want my body but forget I’m infected with the Tarkat
MAL : You forget I’m a powerful sorcerer. All I gotta say is “Abra Cadabra” and go back to going down on you
MILEENA : You know you’re actually cute if you didn’t open your mouth
MAL : Ha! Got you to admit I’m cute!
MILEENA : The blood lust is starting to take control of me
MAL : I should not be turned on right now
MILEENA : Raiden is too weak to handle a woman like you
MAL : I’m guessing you got the backbone for it?
MAL : Tanya is lucky we did not meet first
MILEENA : She is
KITANA VS MAL
KITANA : If you call me “eye candy” you will not walk away from this fight
MAL : God damn it! Johnny stole my line
KITANA : You couldn’t handle an Outworld woman
MAL ; Oh honey, I’m one of the most powerful sorcerers and half demon. Handling you would be like nothing
MAL : I don’t mind this hard to get act you got
KITANA : By the gods you are more relentless than Cage
MAL : Don’t tell me I’m losing my shot to Raiden
KITANA : *chuckles* Survive this and we’ll see
KITANA : You and Johnny Cage? Is that a joke?
MAL : Aww. Are you jealous, princess?
KITANA : You talk a lot of talk but I bet you’re submissive
MAL : *laughs* Did you actually just flirt with me?
KITANA : I don’t care how good you are - I am still not interested
MAL : So you admit that I’m good in bed?
MAL : The only reason I don’t back off is because I know you like me
KITANA : It doesn’t matter if I do - I cannot be with you
KITANA : My sister has been asking about you, sorcerer
MAL : Tell her I’m busy with you
KITANA : If I let you give me a massage - it will just lead to something else
MAL : Is that really a bad thing princess?
OTHER CHARACTERS TALK ABOUT MAL
JOHNNY CAGE : 50 bucks that Mal asks me out
KUNG LAO : Looks like your pockets are going to be empty
KUNG LAO : Oh come on! You’re already the chosen one! You have to have Mal too?
RAIDEN : She chose me, Kung Lao
LIU KANG : Mal is not a prize to be won, Johnny Cage
JOHNNY CAGE : So it sounds like you’re letting me have her
KUNG LAO : How can I compete with god like powers?
LIU KANG : There is no competition to win Mal’s heart…but you simply can’t
KITANA : I always thought you were interested in me
RAIDEN : You are quite the woman, princess but Mal has my heart
JOHNNY CAGE : I should’ve known Mal was into chicks. She’s a hot demon chick
KITANA : Do you ever stop talking?
JOHNNY CAGE : You know if you and Mal don’t work out then maybe we can -
KITANA : You are truly relentless, Cage
KITANA : Something tells me you and Mal have more history then you let on
LIU KANG : Which all shall remain a mystery
RAIDEN : Did you really slap Mal?
KITANA : Yes but she seemed to enjoy it
KUNG LAO : How come I don’t end up with Mal?
LIU KANG ; Is there something you wish to confess to me, Kung Lao?
JOHNNY CAGE : Admit it - you got a thing for Mal-Pal
MILEENA : Quiet, Earthrealmer!
JOHNNY CAGE : So if you and Mal go at it who’s on top and who’s on bottom?
MILEENA : Worry about your own problems, Cage
RAIDEN : I am not telling you if Mal is a “top or bottom” Johnny
JOHNNY CAGE : If you’re a bottom then just say that
LIU KANG : Treat Mal with the utmost respect
RAIDEN : I will, Lord Liu Kang
JOHNNY CAGE : Boooo! She picked you?
LIU KANG : You are surprised she picked a Fire God over an actor?
KUNG LAO : I think Mal has a crush on you
KITANA : I doubt her feelings are real
AND THATS IT!!
send in requests!
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2kyo7 · 6 months ago
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𝐂𝐀𝐈𝐌; 𝟎𝟓
metkayina!reader x avatar 2
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THE SHORE HAD BECOME tiny after yourself and Tuk had swam such a great distance to reach the destination. At first you'd grown worried about going so far, even with your skills you didn't want her to tire out halfway through, but was graciously surprised when Tuk showed little sign of discomfort or distress. Simply enjoying the delicious food and scenery around her. "Tuktirey do not fear the waves as you swim." You held a steady grasp to Tuk's hand, providing some stability as she attempted to stay afloat comfortably as you did. "The harder you fight, the harder swimming will be."
Tuk let out a strong huff of frustration, "I only want to swim like you ____!" You laugh aloud at her inexperience, "most fyeyn in the clan can not swim half as well as me Tuktirey. Do not worry yourself so much." Tuk seemed to calm at the realization she was not lacking in skill, just you had an over abundance of it. "Woah, really!" You nodded, soon diving your head below the water in order to pick a ripe fruit from its underwater vine. "In truth Tuktirey, you are doing very well—even more so than your older siblings! Truly something only a strong warrior can accomplish.”
fyeyn - adult
She became silent at your words for a moment before speaking once more, "why do you call me that ____? I have never went into battle before like Neteyam and Lo'ak..." Tuk's head lowered slightly, a mix of sadness and anger playing on her features, all directed towards herself. You'd broken the fruit apart, placing its inside contents to her lips. "Being a warrior is not only about fighting. One can be a warrior of many things." Tuk took the fruit into her mouth, looking at you curiously. "Take me, I am a warrior of the water, and you—"
"You are a warrior of great courage. Not many are able to travel so far and stray from everything they've known, especially at your age."
"So...I am a warrior! More than Lo'ak, and Neteyam." Tuk's eyes gleamed with excitement, her arms moving to latch themselves around your neck. "____, if you know all this—can't you be nicer to everyone else?"
The question through you for a loop, but you came to understand why she'd ask this of you. Her family most likely spoke about you amongst themselves, no, you're positive they do, and she heard every word of it. Admittedly you did have your favorite out of the family, and to everyone else, the difference was noticeable. Though you still thought your actions of precaution were just, maybe at some points you took things too far. "I apologize Tuktirey, I've acted immaturely up until now."
"Pänutìng you won't be mean anymore!" Her bottom lip quivered ever so slight, in a silent plea. Wrapping an arm around your middle, you started swimming towards shore with ease despite the added weight. "I pänuting Tuktirey, kindness and respect shall be shown to your family by me from now on."
pänuting - promise
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Eclipse over took the sky's bright and shining blues, now exchanging them for dark contrasting purples lined with thousands of stars. Both you and Tuk admired Eywa's enchanting sky view causing your voyage to take much longer than intended. Upon arrival, you notice the Sully's in their usual circle—minus one of course, deciding that your distance was close enough. "I'm afraid this is where we part ways young warrior."
"Come join us for dinner, they won't mind trust me!" Tuk began pulling you closer towards her home, you retracted yourself from her surprisingly vice grip on your arm. "No Tuktirey, I must leave for home myself soon—may eywa grant you peace."
"Goodnight ____." Tuk's pace turned into a fast jog as she approached her family's marui, "see you tomorrow!" You watched as she was immediately greeted by the others, showered with affection after she'd technically disappeared for nearly an entire day, cooing you watched the scene only a moment before the ocean called out your name in whisperers. Allowing herself to sucome to Eywa's waters.
Neteyam soon departed from his shared marui pod, eyes scanning around the dark in search of something—or rather—someone. Ah, he thinks, there you are. "Neteyam? What are you doing, sit. Dinner will be fixed soon." He paused at the entrance, with half his body already out, Neteyam turned to look at his mother pleadingly. "Uh, I'll be back soon, don't wait to eat."
Venturing out of his home at a rather quickened pace, Neteyam nearly tripped over himself to get to you, praying that the slip up went unnoticed.  "____" He called softly, possible the softest he ever would to anyone, so much he'd doubt you'd heard him.
Your ear twitched—you heard him— but the rest of your body remained unmoving. You'd submerge yourself barely waist length into the water, your arms outstretched to feel the bioluminescent squid which swam in circles around you as if you were born one of their own.
Neteyam ungracefully joined alongside by you in the ocean waves that pushed against his body, not only causing him to nearly lose his footing but also scare away your marine life.  "Oh! I truly meant no harm—" You interrupted his apology with a deep groan, silencing yourself by dragging two hands down your face, muffling the next words you spoke. "Eywa give me strength."
He'd really done it now, embarrassing himself not only once but twice in front of you of all na'vi. It's as if he lost all sense in your presence, who could recover from this? "Worry not, brother of Tuktirey, you are not completely to blame for your clumsiness. I am at fault too."
Neteyam lowered his own posture send you a look of surprise, you'd never said something like this to him. "Your sister has made me realize the error of my ways." Your gaze shifted to look towards Neteyam, leaving him breathless simply because of your stare. "I have been unreasonably cruel to you and your family."
Placing a light hand to his shoulder, you wanted Neteyam to understand the truth to your words—your truth. "I am sorry Neteyam."
A toothy grin grew on the younger na'vis face quicker than he could suppress it, an expression of true happiness taking shape. He'd never thought four simple words of an apology would ever make him feel the way he did now, like an opposing force finally released him, now Neteyam felt ten times lighter.
"Irayo ____." Encasing his hand around yours, Neteyam's words were followed by a deep, meaningful silence between the both of you. So much so, you barely took noticed of the lightened squid which not only surrounded yourself but also Neteyam into a circle. What you did take notice of were his round bunny ears, that twitched too often. And every tiny syuratan freckles scattered throughout his face. Your eyes began traveling further than they should've, taking note of his arms, though thin compared to your people, had a thick layer of toned muscle. Wondering the tiniest bit lower revealed a noticeable vline—
irayo - thank you
syuratan - bioluminescence
"I-I don't deserve your thanks," you withdrew your hand from his hold, opting to sway them in the waves. "Tomorrow I will truly teach you the ways of our people, just as I always should have." Neteyam stopped himself from reaching out to hold your limb once again, not wanting to risk losing the new found sympathy, watching while you fully submerged yourself, causing splashes of water to land on him. "Alright. Tomorrow then." He turned to walk back towards the dry surface sand.
"Nìhona unil, ____" Neteyam's smile outshined even thr thousands of stars above you, hoping he wouldn't see your growing nervousness. Simply nodding in response as he walked away.
nìhona - sweet
unil - dreams
You swam with your head atop the waves, enjoying the simple comfort and familiarity of something so known to you—paired with the overwhelming presence of the sky. Tears breamed along your waterline, mixing amidst salty water droplets that already occupied your cheeks. To do this, accepting them, went against the very values you'd built to protect yourself and the clan from your parent's fate. As if you broke some type of taboo by welcoming them with open arms despite knowing their origins.
"Great Mother," you say breathlessly, "guide me well."
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legendofmorons · 8 months ago
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How to fall in love twice part 7
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Pairing: Malon x Time x reader
Rating: G
Summary: While you and Malon go on an unofficial coffee date, Time finally has some sense knocked into him thanks to Wild, Warriors, and Legend.
Warnings: N/A
Other: If I missed anything, please let me know
-------
The third day in modern Hyrule begins with the delightful experience of introducing Malon to modern coffee shops. Which is certainly worth it.
However, first, you get a nice shower. With your hair routine, proper soap, any shaving you might choose, and the ability to have hot water. It's glorious, and you are thankful for running water.
Malon takes a shower as well, still confused about modern shower products, but delighted in the effects! She likes that there are so many options. She also adores the hot water since she doesn't have to heat it herself.
Malon has delighted in modern clothes, a sage colored cable knit sweater, and dark jeans are her chosen outfit today.
How the fuck is she so pretty all the time? It should be illegal.
You need to focus on the things going on. Not on how pretty Malon is.
You also need to introduce her to milkshakes. You think she'd like them. But that's for later.
For now, you focus on getting your wallet, keys, and any other items you need for a city outing. You glance at the deity mask sticking our of your bag.
You find both comfort and worry in the presence. The mask has the markings that Time bears. And yet it feels unlike him at all.
You shake your head to dispel the thoughts. There's no use dwelling on those things.
Your time is much better spent on other things. Like kicking ass or spoiling the gorgeous red head you're with.
You lead Malon into the local coffeeshop midmorning. The crowd is not dense, but there's quite a few people there anyway.
Mostly, it's college students who take residence in the establishment.
You both look over the menu, and once you've explained the new drink concepts to her, you both step up to order.
"Welcome to Cuthulu brews. What can I get started for you?" The barista at the counter asks with a smile. Their eyes look dead, though. Classic customer service jobs, sucking the life out of people.
"Can I get a mocha but like - not taste the coffee?" Malon asks.
"Uh- maybe?"
"Why don't you get a shot of espresso in you hot chocolate." You suggest lightly.
"I can do that?"
"Sure, you want hot chocolate with one shot?"
"Yes, please."
"What size?"
Malon looks to you, unsure but excited.
"Large, please." You decide, that'll be more chocolate to hide the coffee taste in.
And really, you think you both deserve nice things after the hell you've been through lately.
You don't know what you'd do without Malon. Ignoring your feelings for her she's still been such a help and pillar of support.
"Awesome, can do. And for you?" The barista turns their attention to you.
You order your drink, along with two breakfast pasteries. You want to make sure you and Malon are both eating well enough.
You pay and leave a tip.
While you and Malon wait for your order, she seems to be buzzing with excitement.
"You're more chipper today, good dreams or something?" You ask with a smile.
The smile she turns on you is dazzling, "Sort of. I'm just glad I'm with you mostly."
"Oh, that's sweet. I'm glad I'm with you too, Mal." You smile and then feel silly using the nickname you've only heard her husband use. "Sorry, uh, the nickname is probably weird."
Malon just shakes her head, "Not really! I like hearing you call me that."
"Oh. Okay." You smile, trying not to read into any of this.
But over the time spent with Malon- your crush has definitely become bigger. And you are a lot closer to in love than you should be.
After collecting your drinks and breakfast, Malon leads you to a window table to sit at. Her mood is the highest it's been in a while.
It's good to see her happy.
"You said you wanted to show me something called - a wifey?"
You nearly choke. "WiFi. Wifey is something different."
Malon laughs, but she looks like she said the wrong thing on purpose. But that's got to be wrong.
(It's not wrong. She's teasing you.)
"You're probably right." She says before taking a sip of her drink.
You just resign yourself to a few bites of breakfast pastry. You need a moment. Just to get your mind up and running again.
"So, if we're in your time, don't you have someone to check in with?" Malon asks as she looks you over.
She does that a lot. Why's she always looking you up and down? She's not checking you out. That's just silly.
(She is checking you out. And she thinks it's rude you keep trying to stop yourself from returning the attention.)
"Not really. I'll be gone again soon so it'd just upset them." You say simply.
Because really the longest you've stayed in any time is a week since you got pulled away from the chain. So why bother upsetting people?
"I guess. But I'd want to hear from you."
You laugh, shaking your head. "You're sweet to me."
Malon makes a face, as if amused and exasperated. She does that a lot when you try to wave off her compliments.
"(Y/n), sweetie, you're a lot better than you give yourself credit for."
"Oh. Uh- thanks."
She just smiles, and sets a hand on your hand. "I mean it. You're going to make whoever you end up with very happy ome day."
She has a weird tone, and you almost think she wishes she was who you end up with. But that's ridiculous and probably not right.
"Thank you."
-------
Time is having a very bad time. Since he saw you and Malon, he's been torn up inside.
On one hand, you're both alive!
On the other hand, you're still who knows where facing threats he can't protect you from.
What a great time.
"You need to eat." Wild says as he pushes the shepard's pie into the old man's hands.
Time looks at him, blinking. Right. Food. He does need sustenance.
"Thank you." Time manages.
Wild just sighs, shaking his head. "You're disrespecting both of them by thinking they're gone."
"I don't - I don't think they're gone... I just think I'll never see them again."
Wild just levels a stern look at Time. He's not paid enough for this. He isn't paid at all, actually.
He will have to talk to Hylia about labor laws. She needs to hear from his union.
First, he needs a union, actually. He'll have to ask Legend for help there.
"What?" Time manages with a strangled edge.
"You're being entirely too pessimistic. Everyone thinks we'll see them again. Even Legend. So are you going to snap out of it?"
Time blinks again, confused and unsure if he should be offended. He's just being realistic!
Right?
"Don't give me that realistic spiel. Stop making things out worse than they are."
"I'm not!"
"We saw them three days ago. They were alive without any immediately fatal injuries, and they were both standing on their own. So unless they've started throwing the same pity party you are, they're fine."
"I'm not throwing a pity party."
"Call it what you want, but you're being too seal-ious."
"You did not just make that pun."
Wild just grins. There is nothing like puns to make people listen to you.
"Is he done making the worst assumptions?" Warriors asks as he makes his way over.
"I don't know. Time?" Wild turns expectantly to the old man.
Time just sighs. "Yes. We need a plan."
"We have a plan." Warriors says, as if it should be obvious.
"Since when?"
"An hour after we saw them. Some of us have been getting shit done." Legend adds helpfully.
"Legend." Warriors sighs. Though he dosen’t seem too far away from the sentiment.
"You didn't tell me?" Time asks, sounding genuinely upset.
"The only people who can pull you out of your spirals consistently are the reason you're spiraling. We tried." Pegend tolls his eyes.
"You're not the only one who misses then, Time." Warriors sits beside Time gently. "You may know Malon the best, but we all like her."
"And we all love (Y/n). Not the way you do, but they're one of us." Wild says firmly, "Twilight is barely keeping it together. You know he hates losing loved ones to portals."
Oh.
Time realizes he's really been disconnected. Of course, everyone else misses you and Malon.
He didn't even think about how the others might feel.
Shit.
"I'm sorry." Time says as he looks between his three companions. "I haven't- been present latley."
"We'll forgive you, this time." Wild gives a little grin, "Just don't get lost in your gear again."
"Deal."
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readychilledwine · 3 months ago
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Femme Not Fragile
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Elain Archeron Week - Day 3 - Strength
Summary - Warrior was a title Elain never wanted to earn, but there are times when power can be more than brute muscle
Warnings - Fluff, mental health
A/N - Happy @elainarcheronweek day 3. I mentioned many times that Elain is for those of us who don't relate to the sword bearing female fighters typically written into fantasy. Elain is for those of us who find our strength and guidance through what the world considers traditionally feminine and soft. I sincerely hope that when we get her book, things stay that way.
🌸Elain Week Masterlist🌸Master Masterlist🌸
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Elain grunted as Rhysand gently pushed her down with a sigh, “Left footing,” he tisked. “Again.” He held a hand to her, pulling her back to her feet. “Elain, I love you dearly, but you are not a fighter, my dearest.”
It should have felt like a punch to the gut, but she knew she was right. She was built for socializing, for parties, for being a socialite. “That is not a bad thing,” her brother in law said as he laced his fingers into hers. “If you give me the day, I'd like to show you why.” 
“I just wish I could be helpful,” her voice could move mountains, and he smirked at the fact that she didn't see that in herself. “To be of use.”
Rhysand began to move them into the new Riverhouse, nodding at the shadow wraith twins as he did, “Help Elain bathe,” he commanded but asked then. “Then change her into something comfortable for a day in Velaris with me.” The High Lord kissed his sister's hand before going to bathe and change himself. 
Many things were different since becoming fae, but a few things Elain would never trade back. One of those things was the friendship, no, sisterhood she shared with Nuala and Cerridwen. The three of them were 3 strings, woven together, braided and bonded beyond any expectations. Their moments alone were occupied by laughter, love, shared bottles of wine snuck away without a rich male noticing. 
They dressed her in a deep jewel tone pink dress that ended below her knees with comfortable flats and pearl jewelry. 
Elain met Rhysand at the entryway to the house and took her brother's arm when it was offered. He began to say, “I'm going to take you somewhere special in Velaris. You will-” He stopped himself, just grinning as he motioned for her to come with him. 
He walked her through the lively streets, whispering the latest Inner Circle gossip that Elain may have missed while tied up in the kitchens and her small garden. 
The faint scent of pollen and water hit her nose, followed by laughter and music. Rhysand pulled her through an archway decorated with faelight lanterns and hanging vines. The sight beyond that archway had her audibly gasping.
Flowers.
Thousands of flowers.
Reds, pinks, yellows, purples. They climbed and ran as far as her eyes could see. Trimmed and neat cobblestone pathways leading to patches of grass. Females and children dominated the area, a few glancing at Rhysand almost curiously. 
“My mother forced my father to have these gardens planted,” his voice ached with centuries of lingering pain. “She said Velaris needed more beauty. A place to enjoy the softer things. You two are a lot alike. You both enjoy the softer things.”
Elain looked around in wonder, seeing the joy the gardens brought. A certain bed caught her eye, though. A bed of tulips. They were common to Prythian, so not as excited as the exotic ones she longed to see someday, but she ran to them none the less. She inhaled them as if they were morning coffee, bathing her senses in their fragrance, her fingers in the silk of the soft white petals. 
Rhysand watched as her body seemed lose all tension and stress. Her smile grew, lovely and wide as she then pulled him to another bed of unique roses that seemed to shift from yellows and pinks to fiery reds and oranges as they grew and matured. 
“Do you understand why I brought you here,” he finally questioned her. “There's a lesson here for you, little sister.” Brown eyes met his as she blushed, so focused on the joy the flowers had brought her she had forgotten the purpose of their visit. Rhysand only smiled and nodded at her honesty. “Do you see the way the females and children here are calm? How safe they feel?”
She looked around again, studying a mother with her daughter making a cut bouquet. Watching the group of 3 friends giggle as they kept glancing to Rhysand. “There is no fear here.”
“Because fear does not belong here,” Rhysand asserted. “Fear has no home in place for tranquility and healing. That is your power, Elain. Not feats of war.”
Rhysand took her own hand, placing it on her heart before making her take a few slow breaths. “I just thought everyone wanted me to be this great fighter, a warrior, after what I did to the King of Hybern-” she cut herself off, blinking away that horrible moment before she could the blood on her hands again. 
Rhysand seemed to consider her words before kissing her forehead. The act was tender, comforting. “Why do you believe fighters only belong on battlefields? Are you not a warrior for overcoming your struggles? Does the battle you fight inside yourself not prove your strength and power?”
The question hung as tears began to line her eyes, threatening to spill over. 
“You have an inner strength that is unique to you, Elain Archeron. We do not expect you to be Feyre nor Nesta. We all love you as you are. You are a reminder to us that there's peace in this world, and peace requires a different warrior.”
A blanket appeared next to them, a basket of food and two books, “Are we having a picnic?” Rhysand nodded as he moved them to the blanket. “Just us?”
He nodded again with a hum, “Just us. And rows and rows of flowers I am prepared to order for you.”
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coffeesleep-ooc · 5 days ago
Text
DNNNH but LiuShen
Recently I’ve been watching Dungeon no Naka no Hito and my brain decided ro just spam me with sv thoughts.
(beware spoilers for the anime btw!)
For ppl that hasn’t seen it, it’s an adventurer who tried to find her father in a dungeon only to end up being employed there by the administrator! She lives a lot of new experiences with this new job, like understanding a bit of how the dungeon works, that some monsters ate intelligent, why some monsters drop gems, the relationship between the dungeon and the outside world etc etc…and there’s even some hints of a potential relationship between the cute admin and the protagonist!
So i was thinking her ‘must be strong’ cold no friends personality - even though she is loyal to a fault and still tries her best to find her only family and better her fighting strength - would fit LQG quite well! And administrator-san who is apparently op as heck but happy and sweet and messy like nobody else fits SY!SQQ quite well!
So imagine:
LQG is initially wary bc he (she? him? she??? idk if i should make them girls, it would be cute either wayyyy, girls have their own charm but they work ao well as giya in denial too…) didn’t come here for this, and this pretty person leading him who knows where could always be a very elaborate illusion or trap of the dungeon. But then he actually fights him and its a whole thing that doesn’t let him sleep at night. It was that spectacular…and later on he becomes the only human companion to the administrator of the dungeon, they have other people and beings in there, but still it appears tha SQQ is quite lonely. Regardless, LQG lost and has to fulfill his end of their deal, so he works: he does stuff like move supplies, refill the dungeon’s chests, train in the shadows, and anything and everything SQQ can think of.
LQG doesn’t understand how SQQ can work with so many things around. SQQ is still dying of shame bc his new friend employee saw the surveillance room before he tidied everything up.
He also admires SQQ’s sense of duty and passion. He likes to see him smile and pretend that he isn’t tearfully hoping Liu Qingge won’t throw away the very unusable stuff he has accumulated, like the 100 holes umbrella (‘it will have an use’, he says, ‘it converts water in other random things of the same size of the hole’, he says. ‘Isn’t that cool???’ He also says). LQG likes to watch him pat the fax slime (mo idea where a word like fax came from, but the thing is useful at least) after it spits out documents, or excitedly play with low level monsters in the first floor.
He also likes to see WQW (the resident dwarf blacksmith) scold SQQ for delaying the patrols and forgetting to organize the administrator's room. It’s…entertaining to see his face contort trying not to pout.
LQG likes working in the dungeons with SQQ, with WQW and everyone else.
And SQQ? Well, SQQ is always there for LQG’s progress as a warrior now. He watches him growl and frown when he doesn’t understand something (most of the things related to monsters, magic and the dungeon itself), watches his eyes light up when there’s battle or training, watches him go into pensive modes when there’s something new he just learnt.
SQQ definitely doesn’t listen in secret as LQG tries to imitate the language of one monster they interviewed earlier that day. He does not struggle to silence his giggles when LQG unknowingly says something vulgar.
SQQ doesn’t smile when he watches LQG struggling but doing his best to accept whatever the dungeon throws at him. He is not looking at LQG barely managing to contain his excitement when talking of weapons with WQW and feeling fond. He is not…
Who is he kidding? SQQ is happy he has a…coworker now. He is happy he has a companion. Since the previous administrator left he has been… craving human contact maybe. Just maybe.
*
There is another scene in particular that i think would be extremely funny with these two. When they sit down to eat, imagine SQQ asking LQG why he (or she?) doesn’t eat anything aside from the basic bread and meat that he gets in the kitchen rations, and he says his big sister (almost parental figure) taught him that messing with cooking could kill him if he didn’t do it right.
then proceeds to tell SQQ of the time he tried to put salt in his soup, only to make it a disgusting mess that couldn’t be eaten and would surely kill him if he tried while SQQ (who also has mo idea of cooking) listens with horror
This is someone else’s cue to enter and say:
“You are really strong but don’t know anything of the world, do you? You are not supposed to throw in a huge rock of salt but grind it and use a little bit of the sand that rests.”
SQQ & LQG: Oh…
And then comes chef extraordinaire LBH to try and teach these two about cooking, stopping LQG feom making the ingredients paste, stopping SQQ from tasting the peeling of the onions, amongst other difficult things that make him end up in the floor looking at the ceiling with a lost gaze that speaks of the horrors
he does find top grade ingredients that make him salivate and put puppy eyes at SQQ
LQG has his world changed after one Hap-i mean…one Binghe meal!
*
Or alternatively! Shen Qingqiu has to go renew his contract with the new ruler of the nation and be able to be a self-ruling dungeon-town. He thinks this is too much work. So he asks LQG ro disguise himself as the actual dungeon admin and fight the king in his place! What does hw mean he’s not strong enough yet? Ofc he is! Believe this poor overworked administrator Liu-dada! He won’t let you be in danger anyways! (LQG is unimpressed)
there’s a problem tho, the king wants to win no matter what, so when the fight goes ro LQG’s side he secretly orders his strongest bodyguard to subdue the seemingly soft and weak young master that accompanies the “master of the dungeon” so he can make LQG surrender of his own volition. However, when he turns, the strongest man in the whole country is unconscious himself while SQQ rapidly stands up to cough awkwardly (yes, his eyes didn’t deceivw him, this young master was poking at his bodyguard and playing with his unconscious form). Lets say that the young king ends up fighting an angry LQG while SQQ tries to calm them both down.
when they finally renew the contract tho, SQQ asks if there’s any questions and the king says:
“i-if i may be so bold to say…you fought beautifully, I- this one is called Luo Binghe, could i ask for your name?”
SQQ: o.o
LQG: … ò.ó
SQQ: S…L…! I-I!!! MY NAME IS MU QINGFANG GOODBYE
SQQ was still breathing heavily after the transportation light dimmed inside the admin room.
“You said you were the dungeon’s slime.”
“S-shut up!”
“Wei Qingwei is going to yell at you.”
“I SAID SHUT UP!” (Insert very manly whines here)
LQG feels…annoyed. He doesn’t want SQQ to go away with some king that has no manners. He wants SQQ to stay with him for…for a long time. Mmm, he must be catching something to feel this bad, maybe he shouldn’t have pushed himself so far in training the day before.
The king tried to dins info on this MQF to invite him to dinner, he is still sighing hopefully, sadly that “MQF” has no idea he is losing an interesting meal. LQG finds out and is angry for a whole week for no reason, he wants to go fight the king asap! SQQ is confused.
*
Was also thinking about where SQH would fit in here bc i love cumplane way too much too, and that made me think of Qijiu as well, so this another idea came to the braincell.
L: “Wait, so your shizun is still alive?”
“yeah…the dungeon was his passion and everything, but he found his childhood sweetheart and eloped. I mean, I’m glad he didn’t have just the dungeon you know? But then, Qinghua also eloped! That b-p-person!”
LQG fondly ignored the softly said: “stupid pair of assholes leaving me here to manage their responsibilities!” He already knew that SQQ said that to hide his real feelings.
“and Qinghua was…?”
“oh,he was shizun’s other disciple, but his magic was less combat oriented i guess? So shizun made me his successor…An ice monster kidnapped Qinghua after shizun was gone for two years.”
“An ice monster did what?!”
“Willingly, he was willingly kidnapped to do paperwork and have his children.”
LQG was speechless.
SQQ snorted.
“Im just kidding, he went to become an advisor.”
*
MQF should be a slime.
Ik how it sounds but hear me out too. There’s this cool system in DNNNH (or maybe it should be DNH? Idk) where slimes are monsters of the dungeon that are just there and never attack you, but behind the scenes there’s a gigantic slime that is the “mother”, and the admin periodically cuts bits of the giant slime to produce smaller copies that act like lil cleaners of the place (they dissolve stuff) and qhen they lose most of their magic and become rlly tiny and get to join the mother again.
so, was thinking that MQF should be the head cleaner alime version! So he sends lil copies of himself to dissolve stuff and clean!!! But he sleeps a lot or eats ravenously things that fontain magic power to replwniah his energy so he has lass interaction with LQG and SQQ!
QQQ could be one of the dungeon bosses in a grumpy violet cat form maybe. Other peak lords could also be nom-human staff.
there’s human connections tho! Like the guild’s directors and adventurers that try hard to pass each floor… and the one cooking episode with soup…and fried veggies…
…now im also hungry
*
I theorize that the protag’s father accidentally fell into the demon’s world. So i imagine a big sister LMY happily writing the equivalent of bl after falling into that world lsndmsjsj.
her (or his? Gender bent thoughts attack again) works are so famous that they reach othwr worlds too!
and LQG finds one, he thinks ‘this is…somehow familiar?’ but he doesn’t know why!!!
SQQ finds the book and misunderstands tho. Rip.
“To think he would have this kind of tastes…well, one needs to have a hobby no?”
SQQ read da book, tears da book apart - metaphorically -. New hobby unlocked too!
*
I also think that the king could come to the doors of the dungeon after finding nothing ofthe mysterious MQF and oofer food to the beautiful and shy MQF.
LQG would be raging, SQQ running for his life and the rest of them wondering why the human king wants ro court a regular slime. Though he will certainly manage with food.
*
I may or may not add more to this if i get any ideas…
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